


Who Are We To Judge?

by ilovewrighting



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Abigail Hobbs, Dark Will Graham, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Murder Family, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:57:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovewrighting/pseuds/ilovewrighting
Summary: “Okay,” Will said, suddenly.“Okay?” Hannibal echoed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.“Let’s go. Tonight. I’m ready.” Will said, his gaze serious.“Do you really feel that way?” Hannibal asked, slowly, calculating. “And everything that it entails?”Will nodded slowly. “And everything that it entails.”*This story picks up when Hannibal asks Will to run away with him the night before the events of Mizuomono. Will says yes, instead of saying no, and they prepare to leave and start their new lives together. Hannibal has one surprise for Will before they leave...Canon divergence after Tome Wan, s2 e12. The murder family takes on the world together.





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay,” Will said, suddenly. 

“Okay?” Hannibal echoed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“Let’s go. Tonight. I’m ready.” Will said, his gaze serious. “Like you said, I’ll feed my dogs and we’ll go. No use in staying around, waiting anymore.” 

Hannibal placed his napkin down on the table and stared at Will. “Do you really feel that way?” He asked, slowly, calculating. “And everything that it entails?” He added, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

Will nodded slowly. “And everything that it entails.” He had been coming to a realization for a while now. Randall Tull had only been the beginning. Killing Hobbs had been one thing, what felt like eons ago. Killing Hobbs had almost been an accident, the way adrenaline had kicked in all those months ago. Killing Tull, putting him on display…. had been an experience.

Hannibal sat quietly for a long while, staring at their empty dishes. He raised his wine glass to his lips, taking a long, slow pull from the glass. He smelled the bouquet before replacing the glass on the table. 

“Nothing makes me happier than to hear you say that, Will,”

Will had admired Hannibal right from the very start. He’d admired that each design was so calculated, feeling connection with the copycat killer, before he even put the pieces together that it was Hannibal.

Will cocked his head at Hannibal, assessing his form. Hannibal thought of the first time he laid eyes on Will, such a nervous, innocent man. He had worn his glasses tight to his face at all times, calculating, always learning, seeing, trying to be seen clearly and to see clearly. He thought of their first breakfast together, how gentle, more relaxed Will had looked without them. The man before him now was quite the contrast from the man who Hannibal had met, and subsequently offended, in Jack Crawford’s office, mere months before.

Back in the current moment Hannibal took another long, slow swig of wine from his glass. “If I may make one request before we begin our new lives together, however,” He paused, assessing Will, “it would be to reveal any past injustices and begin our new lives together honest with each other.”  
Will sighed long and deep.

“You must suspect by now, you’re too smart for any of this to be slipping you by. I’ve been working with Jack, yes, telling him that I would be his man in the room. I didn’t really kill Freddie Lounds, I was using her to try to set you up to kill again, as the ripper.” Will confessed, it feeling good to let everything come off of his chest. He looked at Hannibal for a reaction. “She's actually in Jack's custody, for the time being,” Will finished, sighing.

“I expected as much,” Hannibal said, stiffly.

“I was unsure for a long time. I didn’t know exactly who I would defend in the moment. I didn’t know who I resented more.” Will said, honestly. “You did put me in jail, you know. I harbored just a little bit of bitterness about that. I was angry.” Will looked at Hannibal, his eyes with the slightest hint of humour at the edges. It all seemed to be in faded photos, now, his time in the psychiatric hospital, under the expert care of Dr. Chilton. “Not anymore…”

Hannibal stared, assessing the honesty Will was displaying. He could read Will’s face well enough to know that he was baring his emotion’s for Hannibal’s own dissection. He also read that none of it mattered, none of it would ever matter if they left together tonight. 

Jack Crawford would be none the wiser until they had already disappeared.

“I understand, Will. I appreciate your honesty and am pleased that you have reached a decision. You have, haven’t you?” Hannibal asked.

“I understand you now, Hannibal. I want to know you even more, learn from you, act on these impulses I have to defend you.” Will said, all in a rush. 

“Then, I forgive you, Will, for conspiring against me with Jack,” Hannibal whispered, slowly.

Will relaxed with the words, and if possible, Hannibal stiffened.

“Now, I have a revelation of my own.... The question is… Will you forgive me?” He asked, elusively.

“A revelation?” Will echoed

“Come with me,” Hannibal said, rising from the dinner table.

“What have you done, Hannibal?” Will asked, following him upstairs. “Hannibal?” Will prompted again,

“You must see for yourself,” Hannibal replied as his nimble frame ascended the stairs. “I warned you of a possibility, Will. Do you remember? The possibility of a broken teacup, shattered, piecing itself back together again through some twist of fate.” 

They stood on the landing together and Hannibal moved toward the first door, knocked twice and said, “Come out, my dear,” so softly.

The door opened and a soft, slight Abigail appeared, looking terrified, but mostly unharmed. 

“Abigail?...” Will breathed, his hands reaching up to touch her, to see if she was real or imagined. A slight smile came over her face at his show of affection.

“How…?” Will asked, looking to Hannibal then. 

“I took her. Hid her. They would never let her walk after learning that she had killed Nicholas Boyle. And she was the final piece in my puzzle that put you away so many months ago. For that I am so sorry, always sorry, but I...we would not be here had I not muddied the waters with doubt about you… about us.” He explained. “Abigail wished to stay with me, rather than turn herself back over to Jack Crawford. She urged me every day to find another solution to get you out of the hospital hastily.” 

“Are you mad?...” Abigail asked, softly

Will seemed overwhelmed at first. His head shook slightly as he gazed at Abigail. He still held onto her hair, onto the side of her face, where her ear was gone, but perfectly healed. Thanks, no doubt, to Hannibal’s surgical expertise.

Will allowed a chuckle to escape him, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, Abigail.” Will said, pulling her sharply to him, into a hug. Hannibal smiled, relieved that Will didn’t seem to be as cross with him as he had anticipated.

“Wonderful. But if I can remind the two of you that if we wish to leave undetected, we must go, now. The sooner the better.” Hannibal looked at Will who seemed to be on another plane of existence with Abigail. “Will,” Hannibal called his attention, “You will have all the time you need when we are safely on our journey, but we must move quickly.” 

Will looked back to Hannibal, almost confused, but nodded and uttered “Alright,” 

He let go of Abigail, who returned into the room from which she had emerged. He followed Hannibal to his bedroom like a zombie in a daze.

"I have a surprise for you, Will," Hannibal said softly. 

Will took a moment to respond, still processing the shock of seeing Abigail. "She's real, Hannibal?" Will said, not even hearing his newest statement. “She’s not a hallucination…? A dream?” he asked, again.

Hannibal smiled sadly then. "I'm so sorry I led you astray, will. You should be able to trust what you see and touch. For that I apologize. But yes of course, she is real and she is coming away with us."

Will smiled a bit, realizing that neither of the two of them had killed her. There she was, living...breathing. 

"You have another surprise?" Will asked then, finally processing Hannibal's words from before and amending them. 

"It is small. Much smaller than Abigail." Hannibal turned, to his bedside table. It was a minimalist stylish dark wood, small, compact and with a single drawer. 

He slid it open and with his graceful fingers, withdrew a small dagger. 

"I was going to have it engraved but I didn't know what was appropriate to put on a gift for such a practical man." He said suavely.  
Will took the blade from Hannibal's fingers delicately. He was still processing the choice to leave his former life behind, surprised still with the prospect of Abigail, alive, but he examined the blade appreciatively. 

"It's beautiful," Will whispered, seeing much more than steel within the reflection of the blade. He imagined using it, dealing a deadly blow in defense of his family. Family. He physically paused feeling himself say the words in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" Hannibal said, instantly perceiving the change in his posture. 

"I love it, nothing is wrong with it. It's flawless," will whispered again, overcome with emotion. Will looked beyond Hannibal, then, to the bedside drawer. "How long...?" Will started, unsure how to finish. 

"Has it sat in my bedside drawer while I sleep? Longer than I would like to admit, Will. Are you sure you want to know?" Hannibal challenged. 

After some hesitation, Will said, "Tell me another time, then," and went back to examining the blade. "Thank you," Will said again, "It suits me," he concluded, running his finger along the edge. 

"Ah, that it does, but we must also fit you with a pistol that suits you. Follow me, if you don't mind," Hannibal said, leading will out of the room again. 

Abigail was bringing a bag down to the foyer. She was now wearing a midnight black trench coat and high heels. She had a dark wig topped with a wide brimmed hat, and Will barely recognized her as she stood there in front of the door.

"Can I pick a gun too, Hannibal?" She asked, seeming almost excited. Will choked back the surprise rising in his throat and forced a small smile instead. 

"Of course, my dear," Hannibal said, opening the door to his pantry, the way to his weapons room. "Ladies first," will was almost surprised that Abigail knew the way. Almost.  
She led them from there, even punching in a code to allow a locked door to swing open. 

Will couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Abigail walk quickly over to one in particular, plucking it, a large rifle, from the wall and standing with it. "This one?" She asked Hannibal, smiling, requesting permission. 

"Whichever you choose, my dream. We shall not be returning here again," he said slowly, eyeing Will. "Which will you choose?"  
Will looked from Hannibal to Abigail.

"Which do you suggest?" He asked of her, quietly. 

Abigail looked surprised "Me? You want me to pick it for you?" And Will nodded gently, looking around the massive room of weapons, feeling overwhelmed by all the choices. 

"Hmm," she murmured as she roamed along through the walls, running her fingers along the weapons.  
She picked out a sleek semi automatic and brought it to Will for inspection. Their fingers brushed as she handed it to him and she smiled at him from under the wide brim of her hat. 

"Strong... stealthy... And accurate," she said, in a tone Will seemed to place more with Hannibal than with Abigail. 

"It's perfect," Will said, barely looking at the gun, lost in Abigail's gaze. 

Hannibal picked the smallest of the bunch. Will raised an eyebrow at his choice.

"My suitcase is already packed with my choice. This is a sentimental piece." He said, cradling it. "One of my first kills." He said, looking up and away as if he were transported to this other land. 

"I had made a mistake, a miscalculation... but I had made it and then I had to fix it." Hannibal said, fondling the barrel of the small pistol. "I had brought only a set of daggers and this. I miscalculated with the drugs I had chosen," Hannibal seemed almost to laugh as he said the words. "I was a young, stupid ER doctor with very little experience."  
Abigail was as transfixed as Will was at this point. "This pistol saved my life when I was too inexperienced to execute my designs properly." Hannibal said, looking at Will.  
Will wondered if that was Hannibal for him. Time and time again Hannibal had stepped in when he was too emotional, too inexperienced to make the right call all the time. 

“This pistol was my savior,” Hannibal concluded, never taking his eyes off of Will. 

“Alright. We have twenty minutes until we must be on the road. I am going to sweep the house once more to make sure I have accumulated everything we will find necessary.”

“Where are we headed?” Will asked, still trying to catch up with what was happening. 

“Nova Scotia,” Hannibal said in his smooth accent. “Although I find Canada overall to be a bland country,” He mused, “I have a connect who will prepare false papers for us, there on the water. I have bought two plane tickets through a bank account only once removed from my own, first class, to cuba, and there are paid men who look like us taking those flights for us. The longer the fbi stays unaware that we are traveling with abigail, the better. In the matter of time it should take us to get papers valid enough to make it into Europe, it is dubious that the FBI will be onto our wearabouts, and we should be smooth sailing from there on out.” Hannibal adjusted his sleeves, as though even his own well-thought-out plan gave him anxiety. 

“Or, as much smooth sailing as it can ever be for us, no?” And then, carefree Hannibal was back, smiling a mischievous grin at the pair.  
Will and Abigail chuckled. 

“This is what you want Abigail?” Will turned to her, as Hannibal retreated upstairs to begin his final assessment of the house.

She nodded. “Do you think that makes us bad people?” seeming to think for a moment, and when Will did not jump on an answer, she tacked on “Hannibal doesn’t think so. But I want to know what you think,” She said, looking at her heels, twisting her feet nervously beneath her swirling black dress.

Will chuckled, looking up at Hannibal’s lifted ceilings that he had seen all too many times before. “You know Abigail, I’m starting to think that I’m not really in any position to be judging anyone. Even myself. These past few days make me feel like good and evil are really just points on a spectrum. Seems to me, almost everyone’s somewhere in the middle for one reason or another.”

Abigail nodded thoughtfully, digesting the sentiment. “I like that,” she said, “I wasn't really sure how I felt about it. Still kind of feels like I'm just taking someone's orders,” Abigail paused, making eye contact with Will. “With my dad, I was always just following. Taking direction at gunpoint. Feels like I'm choosing this time.” Will winced internally at getting compared to Garrett Jacob Hobbs, but was contented that there was still striking differences. 

“Well I could only be at ease if you were happy with the arrangement Hannibal is concocting for us. I only want your happiness Abigail.”  
Will had visions flashing before his eyes of teaching her to fish, wading out in one of his favorite spots in Virginia. 

“It makes me happy knowing you're choosing Hannibal. We were worried. For a while. I mean he never said he was.” she said, glancing upstairs. “He always said he had complete faith in you. But I could tell he was nervous. He wanted you to choose him.” she said, quieter then. 

“I wanted me to choose him too,” Will almost whispered, feeling dazed. 

.

Ten minutes later Hannibal was strolling down the stairs with a few old, tattered books under his arm. 

“A few texts from my medical school days.” He said, in reference to the books “Everyone else good?” He asked innocuously. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Will answered 

“First stop, Wolf trap to feed and say farewell to Will’s dogs. Then, we begin our journey.” Hannibal said, surprising Will by remembering the other man’s responsibilities . With the addition of Abigail to all of their plans Will was reeling. He had almost forgotten about his dogs, figuring Alana headed over there every few days anyway just to check in. If he and Hannibal fell off the grid she would undoubtedly pick up with his dogs.

Feeling that amount of trust in Alana was strange for Will, left his mouth feeling sour.

“I’m ready,” Abigail said, returning Will from his reverie. 

Hannibal was eyeing him. “Not having second thoughts are we, Will?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“Never,” Will said, confidently, taking Abigail’s hand for a moment and squeezing it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal, Abigail and Will go to Wolf Trap to say goodbye to Will's dogs. Abigail falls asleep in the car and Will and Hannibal have a conversation as they prepare to start their new lives together.

Hannibal drove them the rough hour back to Will’s place. It would put them only a little later than if they would have left straight away from Hannibal’s home. “Would you like to be alone?” Hannibal asked as they pulled up to the familiar, Wolf Trap house.

“Why would I want that?” Will asked, sarcastically, so the other man followed him out of the car. “Have you ever met my dogs Abigail?” he asked, turning to her, then.

“Dr. Bloom showed me some pictures when I was in the hospital actually.” she said looking timidly at Will. “But no, never in person.” 

“Well, allow me to introduce you. It’s not going to be easy for me to part with these characters.” Will grew sentimental as his dogs ran around the three of them in front of Will’s house, introducing each one by name to Abigail.

Hannibal grew weary, allowing Will to indulge in some final sentiments, with Abigail. He could admire the love and adoration that Will had for the dogs, but he could not truly empathize with it. Abigail would understand. Hannibal had been selfish, keeping her all to himself all these months that Will was locked away. Will deserved this small peace before their journey, and Hannibal looked around, filing this moment away in his memory palace. 

Hannibal adored to see Will so pure and happy. It was startling to see him believe that Abigail was not real, or ponder if she was hallucinated. He smiled at his good Will, a large, mean looking dog, had melted into a puddle beneath the sprawl of Will’s fingers, rubbing the underside of the pup, as the dog squealed with glee.  
Hannibal had seen those same fingers kill and maim a man. The contrast made Hannibal shake his head in wonder at the profiler, empath, and friend, standing before him. Will whistled and all the dogs came running in from the field. Hannibal couldn’t hear what Will was saying to Abigail, but she had taken off her black heels and was carrying them back to the house. 

Taking one final, longing look at the sight of Will and Abigail, strolling towards him in the evening air, he thought about finding a way to get Will to see these dogs again. Perhaps it was a lucky thing that Alana was the most likely person to take care of the dogs once Will and he had disappeared. Hannibal allowed himself to indulge in the thought of standing over Alana, as the life drained from her face. 

“Alright, let me fill them up with fresh water, and we can be on our way.” Will said to Hannibal as he and Abigail approached the porch steps of the old house.

“This is your home?” Abigail asked as the three of them stepped into the near abandoned, one room home.

“I know it’s not much, but you know me, Abigail, not really one for excess.” Will glanced at her, studying his bookshelves, running her fingers over the boarded up hole in the chimney. Leftovers from Will’s encephalitis that made him itch, and feel once more, like the things he was experiencing were not really happening to him.

“Did you really think that you killed me?” She pondered, slowly. 

Hannibal sucked in a quick breath between gritted teeth and warned, “Abigail…” 

“It’s fine,” Will raised his hand to Hannibal, to show he didn’t mind the question. “I never remembered it, so I was never convinced, but…” Will trailed off, coming to stand with Abigail in front of the fireplace, “I was worried that I’m capable of darker actions, and that I would lose time and it could have all happened uncontrollably, in some Garrett Jacob Hobbs fueled psychotic break.” Will dropped his glasses into his hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. “Now, I know, that I’m capable of these darker actions... but they are a tool to use to keep us together.” As he finished he looked from Abigail to Hannibal

“Hannibal thought he knew what you were thinking the whole time,” Abigail shrugged, “Sometimes I had the same theories and sometimes I had different ones. Interesting to see what you were really thinking,” She glanced at Hannibal, to judge his reaction to her next statement. “It’s interesting to see how often we were both close, but still a little ways off from your actual train of thought.” 

Will smiled a bright smile then, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. “The weight of never actually knowing what happened to you was like a thousand pounds on my heart I didn’t think would ever be lifted,” Will brushed a stray hair from Abigail’s face and broke his tone to a whisper, “until tonight…” 

Abigail quickly swiped away a tear, escaping down her cheek. “I’m sorry we had to trick you,” She said, softly

Will took in breath, surprised that she could apologize when he was so clearly so happy just to be in her presence. 

“I do not wish to intervene in this tender moment,” Hannibal started, softly, bringing himself closer to the pair, locked eyes, in front of the fireplace. “But Abigail, I must accept most of the blame. This design was of my own concoction. I could not fathom a way for us all to escape together that wouldn’t be incredibly dangerous. I was selfish. I wanted it to be easy, like this. Look at us now, taking time to say goodbye because we are slipping away so undetected.” He smiled as he approached the two, taking his hand to affectionately pat Will’s shoulder, holding onto Abigail’s hand for support. “I’m sorry, Will,” 

“No one needs to apologize to me anymore. We are a team now. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Will smiled at his newfound family. Nothing had ever felt so right. “Anything you would like to take from here? I’m terrible at being sentimental,” Will asked, as Hannibal glanced at his watch, a silent but clear signal that they should be moving  
Abigail and Hannibal strolled through the house admiring the minimalist nature, as Will filled up the water bowls for the dogs. 

“What about one of these?” Abigail said, pointing to Will’s fishing lures. Will looked up and cocked his head a bit. He hadn’t made a new homemade lure since he was released from prison, the sting of Hannibal using them as evidence against him having left a sour taste. 

“Pick your favorite and I’ll pack it away in some newspaper.”

.

Hours later, Hannibal was driving, and Will and Abigail were chatting on and off. Will pretended to navigate for the first long stretch, but when it became clear that Hannibal knew the directions, the weight of the day began to settle in on Will. Will had barely bothered to offer to drive. Hannibal was probably running on so much adrenaline that he wished to stay up. If there was one thing Hannibal had a hard time relinquishing, it was control.

So Will began to feel drowsy, particularly after conversation with Abigail began to peter out. She eventually slumped over in the back seat, her breathing becoming even and slow as the streetlights illuminate her in intermittent waves.

“You know she was incredibly anxious to see you again. Quite impatient.” Hannibal’s smirk travelled all the way to his eyes, and Will enjoyed the opportunity to study the older man while he was occupied with driving. 

“Was she?” Will prompted, not trusting himself to speak on his emotions, still. 

“Incredibly so. She had felt intense guilt for my own actions, and my own decisions in regards to your incarceration, Will.” Hannibal glanced, from the road to the other man, making eye contact for a moment. “I see much of you in her, already,” 

Will smiled. “I’m nervous, but excited. You really think we will be able to slip away undetected?” Will whispered, glancing back at the young girl in the seat behind them.

“She changes our profile.” Hannibal said simply. “No one is looking for two men and a girl, plus, if we play this correctly, possibly no one will be looking for us at all for a little while.”

Will shifted in the seat. “I think I should shave when we get to Nova Scotia. Maybe even get a haircut.” Will said. “Or did you order our ID to look like he’s a scraggly as I am?” He asked, then

Hannibal took one hand from the wheel, and with a quick glance tousled Will’s hair. “Perhaps we can clean you up a bit. I have a few more points to our disguises which should help us, but you’re right, your identity does not have any facial hair in the photo.”

“How long have you been working on these plans, Hannibal?” Will asked, quietly. 

Hannibal sighed. “These plans were always in place for myself. I have only amended them over the years.” He said vaguely. “I fill in the details where they appear.” The older man added. 

Will couldn’t take his eyes off the man. They had killed together, Hannibal had stood over him as he put Randall Tier on display. 

Still, the situation only felt intimate. It felt as though they had been sharing their deepest desires, Will was sharing with Hannibal that he could not keep away his instinct to kill to save his own life. Hannibal had waited, evoked it in him. The intimacy burned in Will’s memory.

“Where did I lose you to, dear Will?” Hannibal murmured, his hand slowly moving from the gear shifter, to hover over Will’s leg, to pat his knee, once, twice, gently, and then resting his hand there.

Will stared at the graceful fingers. “Why me?” He asked of Hannibal, half expecting the other man not to answer. 

Hannibal stole a glance in the rear view mirror at the girl that he had come to care for as his own. She was breathing slowly, heavily. “Will,” Hannibal began, eventually, “I have become incredibly, and surprisingly fond of you. Do you remember the first time we ate together? In some shabby motel room,” He prompted, side eyeing Will pointedly, Will still distracted by Hannibal’s hand, resting, gentle weight on his knee.

“I remember,” Will said, allowing Hannibal time to answer the original question.

“Do you remember what you said to me?” Hannibal asked, but Will could remember the entire conversation, the interaction from start to finish in crystal clear detail. 

“I do,” Will said, nodding curtly.

Hannibal breathed deeply. “You told me you didn’t find me all that interesting. But Will, my dear, I had found you so fascinating from the moment you opened your mouth that day in Jack’s office. Every interaction only fueled that interest, gasoline on the fire. I wanted to know you, know what you would think of me, how you would talk to me if you knew me, really knew me, empathized with me the way you did with other killers. I wondered if you would be impressed with my design.” He said eventually.

Will took a moment to digest the answer. “I take it in the past you’ve often not been one to appreciate or even indulge the thought of audience to your design,” he said, finding what made him stand out against others.

Hannibal chuckled. “You know my track record with those I let see me. You and Abigail are the only ones who have lived to tell the tale.” He shrugged, squeezed Will’s knee just slightly before taking his hand and putting it back on the wheel.

Will stared out the window for a moment. “Aren’t you going to ask, why you?” He said, almost flirtatiously. 

Hannibal narrowed his eyes and assessed Will’s tired looking form. They were most of the way to Nova Scotia, heading into the deepest parts of Maine. It was early morning now, the sun creeping up when they turned the right way along the road. 

The older man sighed long and slow. “Would you tell me, truthfully, if I were to ask?” He countered

Will chuckled a little. “You really are always in therapy, aren’t you doctor?” 

Hannibal blushed and looked a little abashed. Will felt his heart soar, thinking that no one else could give Hannibal that tight lipped smile. He had called him out correctly, noticed him psychoanalyzing him. “My apologies,” He murmured and Will tried to decide how to follow up

“Tell me, then, Will, why are you allowing this? After all the work you put into catching me?” Hannibal asked, so quietly Will had to strain to hear the words. 

He smiled at Hannibal, and shook his head, giving into all of the emotions that he had clustered so tightly, compartmentalized for months as he suffocated in a jail cell. “I missed you too much.” Will finally said, “The closer it got to trying to finish the job, the more excuses I concocted to draw it out. I knew I’d miss you again.” Will put his own hand on Hannibal’s thigh then. Hannibal breathed in slowly and covered Will’s hand with his own.

“I missed you too, Will. I’m glad we are embarking on this path together.” He squeezed Will’s hand.

Will wondered what would happen once they were alone, relaxing together, soaking in a moment of well-deserved peace.  
He didn’t dare imagine it, hoping the moment would be upon them before he could prepare for it. 

Will was worried that he would fall asleep in the car, but Hannibal and his hands interlocked kept him focused and awake. He was nervous to fall asleep. He knew upon waking, he would believe that he had only had a vivid dream of Abigail. Nerves ran through his body as he anticipated having to come to that visceral realization again.

“What is troubling you?” Hannibal asked, reading Will’s emotions, as per usual.

Will shook his head slightly. “Worried to fall asleep,” He said, speaking in fragments was always the most concise way to get his feelings out when talking to Hannibal.

“So don’t,” Hannibal shrugged. “I’ll stay up with you. I plan to, until we arrive safely in Europe. I’m too anxious to sleep, a sentiment I’m sure you empathize with.” He answered

Will laughed, shaking his head. “I suppose at least we won’t be insomniacs alone,” and squeezed Hannibal’s hand, which still laid nestled in his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for way more action in Chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal, Abigail and Will find a little bit of trouble in their travels.

“We’re here,” Hannibal said, shaking Abigail’s arm a bit.

The two murderers stood in front of a pastel colored cottage, alight with candles in each window and a spotlight on the door. The water was barely visible behind the cottage, shimmery in the last drops of early morning moonlight, just before the dawn. 

“I meet with our connect this afternoon,” Hannibal whispered to Will, when Abigail proved too tired to respond. He scooped her up in his arms out of the back seat of the car, nonchalantly, as if she weighed nothing. “An old friend of mine owns this bed and breakfast. Now, he’s mostly retired. But for us, he is open. His spare key is under the mat. Would you retrieve it? I warned him we would be coming late in the middle of the night sometime this week.” Will nodded and approached the house. 

Then, Abigail gasped and jerked awake. Hannibal put her down and asked if she was alright, but Will was listening at the door. 

“Something's not right,” he whispered, pulling his gun from his back waistband. 

“Stay here Abigail. Hide behind the car and if anyone comes out but me or Will…” Hannibal began

“Shoot.” Abigail nodded, seeming to be on high alert now, even though she was asleep mere minutes ago. “Come back out though, okay?” She said to the two men before they entered the dimly lit home. 

The two men were silent, Will in front of Hannibal as they began to search the house. The small foyer was pleasant and cozy looking. It seemed mostly undisturbed except for a tea set laid out on the coffee table, half used. The men trod forward past the half drank cups of tea, silently with the guns drawn out in front of them. Will noticed his hands didn’t shake anymore. 

Around the corner into the kitchen, there was not much to be found, no broken glass or sign of forced entry.

The two men heard a noise from upstairs and they both looked up. Hannibal exchanged a meaningful glance with Will, seeming to caution him and took the lead. He led Will back around to the front foyer and the staircase leading up to the top level. 

The men ascended the stairs, creeping slowly so as not make a sound. When they got to the landing Hannibal searched each room as Will stood guard in the hallway. As they approached the final door, the master bedroom, Will could feel Hannibal’s excitement. While unsurprised that Hannibal found this thrilling, Will expected to find nervousness within himself, yet mostly he felt curious. 

As Hannibal began to turn the knob on the bedroom door, they heard a shot from below. Will’s eyes grew wide in terror. 

“Abigail,” He whispered

Hannibal swung the door open the same moment they heard the shot, revealing a tortured corpse in the bed. He rushed to the window which was thrown ajar, the white curtains billowing around him with the early morning breeze. The scene would have been almost beautiful for Will, were he not so protective of Abigail. He paused only long enough to register the dead body before turning and bolting down the stairs, to the foyer and swinging the front door open. 

Abigail stood in front of the car, the gun in her right hand hanging down at her side. She had shot him in the face, but poorly. He was badly injured, immobile, but still alive. 

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

Abigail nodded, silently staring at the place where the man’s cheek used to be.

Will allowed his gaze to follow hers and to take stock of the tortured picture in front of him. He wondered how long he would see this behind his eyes when he closed them.

Although his gaze didn’t waver from the man, he addressed Abigail again. “This man killed Hannibal’s connection to this place. We found his body upstairs.” It vaguely occurred to Will that Hannibal was probably watching from the window, but when he glanced up he couldn’t see anything. “Do you want to finish the job?” Will asked, looking back to Abigail.

Slowly, she shook her head no. Still she didn’t utter a word, only stared.

Will raised his gun, then, thinking better of it, put it back into his waistband. Instead he drew his dagger, and leaned down, cutting the man’s throat. Abigail did not wait for his feet to stop twitching. She strutted past Will, into the house, leaving the front door wide open in her wake.

When the life had drained from the man’s features Will followed Abigail into the house. Hannibal was descending the stairs.

Will moved into the foyer, where they had found the tea set before. Abigail lay, seemingly peaceful on the couch, her heels tossed to the side on the floor next to the couch, the gun abandoned, leaning against the coffee table. 

“Tell us what happened, Abigail,” Hannibal asked. She slowly sat up to face the two men.

“I heard a noise. It must have been him jumping down from the window. When I saw him I shot him and I was so relieved. I froze when I saw he was still alive. Will killed him, really.” Abigail said, seeming to feel guilty about her inaccurate shot.

“My dear,” Hannibal said, making her scooch over to make room for him. He sat next to her, as Will stood, his arms folded with worry. Hannibal was definitely more equipped to handle this than he was. Though he was keeping his cool, his heart was still hammering in his chest from watching the life slowly slip from the man’s features. 

“You protected us,” Hannibal said to Abigail, placing a comforting hand on her knee. “You are just learning. Much as Will still is.” Will furrowed his eyebrows at Hannibal, wondering if he could detect Will’s lingering excitement. “Will and I are both here to help you though. We cannot keep going unless we stick together as a team. You incapacitated that man tonight Abigail, whether or not Will struck the final blow. You are part of the team. Thank you for protecting us.” 

Will nodded, “I asked you if you wanted to take the final shot, not because I thought you were incapable.” He added sitting on the opposite side of Abigail, resting his hands on his knees. “I just thought you had done enough, and if you didn’t want to do anymore, I could finish the job.” Will rubbed his hands together, trying to decide how to word his next thought. “You know I'm still very new to this too, Abigail, just like Hannibal said. I felt like I needed to help you, because we have to stick together.”

“Really?” Abigail asked, turning to Will. “You didn't do that because I had messed it up?” she asked 

“No of course not,” Will almost laughed. “You didn't mess it up, you saved me and saved Hannibal.”

“Will is right, Abigail.” Hannibal said softly, his voice dripping with compassion. “it was foolish of me to allow you to stay at the car by yourself in the first place. Foolish of Will and I not to see that trick coming. You did save us Abigail, whether it feels like you did or not.”

“Thank you…” Abigail said, but seemed to still not be convinced.

“You have more on your mind, Abigail, I can tell,” Hannibal said slowly. “You do not have to share, but Will and I are here for you.” He said she didn’t have to say anything more, yet he waited for her expectantly.

Abigail looked up at the ceiling, thinking, avoiding the gaze of the older men. “It’s just that with my dad…” Will winced a little bit but tried to cover his surprise, and she went on so he assumed she didn’t notice. “Whenever we were… hunting” She looked up at Will, assessing his understanding. “If something went wrong, if the girl tried to run, if anything didn’t go according to plan… it was always my fault.” She confessed, as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Abigail…” Will was surprised at such a revelation. “Your father got caught because he was sloppy, not because of any mistakes which probably weren’t even your fault to begin with. Remember what I said back at Hannibal’s place? Who am I to judge?...” Abigail nodded. “Well, who was your father to judge? Hm?” Abigail sighed, covering her face with her hands.

Hannibal tutted. “Garrett Jacob Hobbs was a troubled man Abigail. Just as you can fall in love more than once in your life, you can have more than one father in your lifetime.” He pulled her hands away, and stared into her eyes. “Will and I will never treat you that way. Every day you spend with us is a gift.” Hannibal sweetly caressed her cheek, brushing away a tear.

“I’m really happy we’re all together,” Abigail said, finally, hugging Hannibal first, and then turning to pull Will close to her. She lingered with Will for a long time and he didn’t mind, closing his eyes to avoid Hannibal’s loaded gaze. It was nice to feel as though she missed him as much as he had mourned her. He had mostly told her the truth before, but there was a part of him that was starting to believe that he was capable of killing her. He hated that part vehemently, but the idea had tortured him.

As Will and Abigail separated, she leaned her head back on the couch looking drained. Hannibal cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs and begin to sort out our…. problems, as it were.” He said elegantly.

“Do you want help?” Will asked, preparing himself to rise

“Stay with Abigail,” Hannibal said, reassuringly, “You both deserve some time to rest. I will beckon if I need you,” He said and turned to head up the stairs.

Abigail let her body slump over a little and relax into Will, her head drooping over to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry we lied to you,” She whispered so low Will almost missed it.

“Hey, don’t apologize for that.” He said, moving to wrap his arm around her. “It’s all meaningless. I missed you so much, I’m just so pleased to have you back. I never imagined that this could happen for us.” He rubbed her arm, and together there, they fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal sort things out and prepare to travel to Europe.

What seemed like a few hours later, judging by the small amounts of sunshine coming through the window, Will awoke, not with a start, but gently. He registered the familiar smell of steak and eggs frying on the stove. Abigail was breathing heavily, slumped over, almost in his lap.

He gently moved her, sliding himself out of the way so she could rest peacefully on the couch. He stretched a moment, not sure why he had believed Hannibal would wake him to help. That man was already spoiling him and they were not even safely out of the country yet.

Will wandered into the kitchen, finding Hannibal’s back to him, standing at the stove in a pair of suit pants and a white v neck undershirt. A pressed button down, tie, and suit jacket hung on a hanger over the back of one of the chairs. “What are you cooking up?” Will asked as he approached the older man. Even after driving and being up for untold hours, Hannibal didn’t look tired.

“Nice to see you awake, I know the shock of seeing Abigail again must have been a draining one.” Hannibal said, smiling sadly at Will. “I’m making steak and eggs, with some seasoned, fried red potatoes on the side. Hungry?” He asked

Will nodded. “What time is it?” He asked again, looking around for a clock and coming up empty. 

“Oh, just after 7 I think. Our connect will not be meeting with me until later this afternoon, but I am concerned that the location may be compromised.”

“Did you… um?” Will stiffened a bit, not sure how to proceed.

“Take care of the bodies?” Hannibal asked, quirking an eyebrow at Will that made him squirm a little. 

“Find any cell phones? Could this guy have called anyone else, telling them we were here?” Will asked, finding his voice again

“Very good Will,” Hannibal said, stirring the red potatoes in the hot frying pan. “Found the phone, did not find any outgoing calls yesterday, so presumably no…” He replied, letting Will try to connect more dots.

“ID? Did you recognize the name? Why was he here?” Will asked, wondering then if Hannibal really had disposed of the bodies or if the room upstairs was still undisturbed to where Will could imagine the design of it.

“Couldn’t find a wallet on his person…” Hannibal said, and it felt like he was baiting Will with clues. 

Will narrowed his eyes. “No? He must have gotten all the way out here to the middle of nowhere somehow. Most people trying not to be noticed don’t get dropped off by someone. We should search around nearby and try to find his vehicle. Abandoned, probably something fairly old and in need of some repairs, I would imagine.” Will said, and was confused with Hannibal’s bright smile. 

“You’re brilliant, you know that Will? You and I are just alike.” He said evasively.

“Would you just tell me what happened?” Will asked, leaning against the counter, his knuckles almost white with suspense.

Hannibal shook his head placidly as if they were discussing the weather. “I knew you would want an undisturbed crime scene upstairs, so after cleaning up our man out on the front stoop, I went looking for his vehicle. Found it a little ways off, old, run down, easy to break into,” Hannibal smiled brilliantly, but kept his eyes focused on the frying pans in front of him. Will was beginning to blush, happy he had guessed correctly about the car. 

“Found his wallet, but didn’t recognize the ID. While you take your time upstairs, I will perform a more thorough search of the car for any more clues.” He plated breakfast, serving food on three equally portioned dishes, handing one to Will. “Bring this to Abigail and wake her up, ask her if she would like to eat yet.” Hannibal turned and looked out the kitchen window to the backyard. “I’m going to eat mine on the porch if you would join me. Abigail will probably need more rest, but better to ask and leave her plate for her there. You and I will soon be preoccupied.” The older man slid open the screen door leading outside, and took the two remaining plates out with him.

Will enjoyed that Hannibal was giving him more time to process the progress that Hannibal had made while he rested. He also felt oddly flattered that Hannibal left the room upstairs untouched for Will.

“Abigail,” Will nudged her shoulder a little, and she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “I’m leaving some food here for you when you want it. Hannibal and I have some things to take care of, so you rest as long as you want.” 

“Thanks. Wake me if you need help, okay?” She said, and Will felt grateful again to have her back in his life so unexpectedly.

“Okay,” He said, patting her on the head affectionately.

Will moved to the porch to sit with Hannibal where he was lounging, staring into the beautiful Nova Scotia forest that gave way to little glimpses of water beyond the trees. He had not yet touched his food and Will took the moment to truly look at Hannibal. He was impressed with himself for not panicking even though the events of the last 12 hours had been mostly unbelievable. Will looked longingly at him, wondering if everything would go according to plan today. 

He approached and sat in the empty chair in front of his breakfast plate. “She's still tired,” Will said

“Thought so.” Hannibal said. “So after we eat, I'm going to search the car again, and I presume you will need some alone time upstairs. Then we can reconvene and I can make the necessary arrangements to clean up this mess.”

Will tasted the steak, which Hannibal had seared beautifully. “I was thinking maybe we could try something different.” Will started

“Oh?” Hannibal asked, tasting his own breakfast.

“How about we search the car together? It'll probably go faster, maybe we can find clues that will help me….” Will trailed off not sure how to suggest this next part, and Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “and then maybe you can accompany me upstairs while I… work.” He suggested, looking up to meet Hannibal's surprised gaze. 

Hannibal blinked a few times, processing what Will was suggesting. 

“I'm quite taken aback, my dear Will.” Hannibal said honestly, putting his fork down to give Will his full attention. “I was under the impression that even bureau chief, Jack Crawford exits the room while you... work.” Hannibal said, mirroring Will’s word choice 

Will chuckled a little. “He does. Or rather, he did.” He paused, letting the past tense adjust in his mouth. “But you and I are more… intimate than I am with Jack. And who knows? Maybe you'll learn something.” Will said with a little smirk. 

Hannibal looked up at the sky and took a big breath of fresh air. “You always continue to surprise me Will. I'm sure I will be a changed man when we are through.” He said, returning his loaded gaze to Will. 

They cleaned up from breakfast and locked up the small cottage. They threw a lingering glance at Abigail asleep on the couch and vowed to only be out of the house for a little while. 

There was not much in the way of evidence within the car. It was dirty and dingy, while still somehow being mostly empty. 

“How many miles?” Will asked. “Not on the car, on the trip setting,” he clarified. 

“Good question. Just over a thousand miles.” Hannibal said, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“So either they followed us from wolf trap, or someone wants us to think they followed us from wolf trap…” Will concluded. “What was the ID again?” 

“It was a Maryland ID, said he was a male aged 29.” the older man recited. “Here take a look at the photo,” Hannibal handed Will the drivers license. 

Will shook his head, not recognizing the face or the name.

“Can I see the wallet?” Will asked. Hannibal fished in his pocket and retrieved it handing it over to Will. 

He shuffled through the pockets for a minute and pulled out a small post it note. In neat script it said “Wednesday 6:30pm” 

“Will, look at you, you clever boy,” Hannibal was grinning wildly. “I would recognize my psychiatrists handwriting anywhere,”

“Bedelia?” Will croaked. 

“How do you know her name?” Hannibal demanded darkly.

“She visited me in prison,” he replied, looking faraway.

“Did she now? You two continue to surprise me,” Hannibal said with an amused grin

“Jack was trying to convince her to help us. But she was oh, so scared of Dr. Lecter.” Will said, almost poking fun. 

“She must have had someone trailing me so she would know if I was headed to kill her.” he mused. “Quite clever actually.”

Will was relieved that Hannibal seemed not to be mad at Will for forgetting to share that information sooner. “I didn't think….” Will started, not sure how he was proceeding

“It may not be of any concern any more because Bedelia prefers defense to offense. We probably need to be more wary of Jack or even Alana but we will proceed very carefully.”

They finished searching the car and returned to the house. Abigail was still sleeping on the couch, although the food was gone from her plate. Will and Hannibal exchanged a tight eyed smile and Will thought, wow, he could get used to this.

The two men ascended the stairs to the second floor and slowly walked toward the master bedroom. 

“Are you sure you want me to accompany you?” Hannibal asked, as Will hesitated, his hand an inch over the handle of the door.

“Yes,” He said quickly. “Just distracted about Dr. Du Maurier. If they followed us, how did he get here before us? Did you ever tell Bedelia about this place?” 

Hannibal looked faraway for a moment. He closed his eyes, tight lipped. “Perhaps there is a bug in my home. Or this man was tapping into my phone call when I made the arrangements.” Hannibal sighed. “Bedelia does know I’m dangerous and she is very, very resourceful.” 

Will smiled at Hannibal, feeling more confident with the information, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re traveling with the very, very resourceful Dr. Lecter.” Will’s relaxed gaze made Hannibal’s features soften again.

“This is starting to suit you almost too well,” Hannibal said, almost in a whisper.

Will rolled his eyes and turned around to slowly open the door to the master bedroom. There wasn’t much blood on the floor, and Will stepped around it slowly and carefully. The bed and sheets were stained deep red and the man had two bullet holes, deep in his chest.

Hannibal was still standing at the threshold to the room. Will turned his attention. He waved his hand, beckoning Hannibal inside. “Come in, and shut the door,” He instructed and Hannibal did as he was told. 

“How do you imagine it? If I may ask?” Hannibal asked, his tone quiet and curious

Will smiled a nervous smile, “I just try to imagine the sequence of events that created… this,” Will said honestly. “Sometimes it’s design… sometimes it’s just opportunity.” He thought of Nicholas Boyle, turning pale under Abigail’s knife.

“Which is this?” Hannibal asked quietly. Will smiled at him once more before he shut his eyes.

Will took three deep breaths. He imagined the man, writhing in the bed, bleeding out, the killer, Will, standing over him, asking him where Dr. Lecter was escaping to. The man didn’t know. He begged, pleaded for his life. 

Will laughed darkly, imagining the killer’s amusement, and Hannibal’s eyes widened, the sound echoing in the quiet house. The sight of Will, standing there, imagining himself killing this person was a strange circumstance Hannibal would never have guessed he’d be witnessing today.

Will did not slip from his reverie. The man gave wrong answer after wrong answer, telling the killer lie after lie about where Dr. Lecter was headed. Will sucked in a deep breath through his nose, blinking sharply. He looked to the startled looking Hannibal.

“Do you have a handkerchief?” Will asked, softly. 

Hannibal slipped his pocket square from his suit pocket and handed it to Will. Will then used it to peel back the sheet of the bed, revealing the man’s hands. They were covered in stab wounds. Will closed his eyes again, getting back into the mindset.  
He imagined growing frustrated. The stab wounds began to be sloppy, rushed, annoyed, more for the killer’s pleasure than for the extraction of information from the man.

Will’s eyes snapped open again. “I don’t think he got any useful information.” Will said, leaving the sheet turned down enough to see the hands, but folding the pocket square and handing it back. “The first few stab wounds seem clean, but the others are all haphazard. I don’t think your man talked at all. Or whatever he said wasn’t making sense.” 

“That was pure beauty, Will,” Hannibal looked impressed and shook his head a little, in awe. Will had drawn a lot of valuable conclusions with just a few minutes in the room.

Will smiled awkwardly at Hannibal. Even Jack Crawford had never called it beautiful. Freaky maybe, but never amazing or wonderful.

“Thanks, Hannibal.” Will waited a moment, soaking in the praise before he asked his next question. “Tell me more about Dr. Du Maurier…” 

“Bedelia is very thorough. She will know that if I found out, I would want to kill her. She must have put someone in place so she would know my whereabouts. She is a clever girl, Will. I must have spoken too much about you in my sessions with her.” Hannibal mused. 

“Do you think it will be a problem for our travels later?” Will asked

“Oh I doubt it. Bedelia will think that we have fled and that she is no longer on our radar.” Hannibal grinned a toothy grin. 

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “And in reality?” he asked, knowing that meant Hannibal had something up his sleeve. 

Hannibal grinned at Will a moment longer and said. “Let's call it more of a back burner situation.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murder family begins their new life in Paris.

Hannibal had worked a little bit of hollywood magic on the room upstairs. Will watched in suspense as the older man knocked certain things over, smashing a lamp and upending a drawer. 

He opened a few others and, with his hands neatly covered in plastic gloves, he tossed a few more drawers open, spilling the contents. Hannibal tossed open the closet doors and moved a few things around, making the room look like a total disaster area.

“Alright,” Hannibal said, almost at once. Taking another glance around the room, he shrugged. “I think that’s as good as it’s going to get. This home is so far up here, I wonder how long it will take for him to be discovered. And unless they go digging in the backyard, Bedelia’s henchman is already gone. As though he were never here.” He waved his hands as though they were performing magic.

“Very thorough of you. What time does our flight take off?” Will asked, not wanting Hannibal to get quite so cocky just yet. 

“6 this evening, I believe. You, Abigail and I will go meet our connect in a nearby library at 2pm. From there we will go right to the plane. Now it’s almost noon, so we have only a little time. We must pack up and go.” 

Will nodded and then froze, his phone ringing in his pocket. He shimmied it out of his pocket, looking to Hannibal for advice. He looked at the caller ID. Jack Crawford. 

He waited until the phone stopped ringing, frozen.

“Keep calm, Will and listen to my instructions. This is an opportunity.” Hannibal said quickly and quietly, his tone even and sure. “If he calls back, answer the phone. Cough. Say you are feeling sick, and you will come to his office tomorrow to see him. Get off the phone quickly. It will take only 30 seconds for him to trace the call.” Just as Hannibal finished, Will’s phone began to ring again. “Get off within 30 seconds, do not let him keep you on the phone.” 

Will took a deep breath and answered the phone. “Jack?” Will croaked, trying to sound tired although his heart was about to beat out of his chest. 

“Will, we have a case.” Jack said, “I’m coming by to pick you up.” Will coughed dramatically, playing it up.

“I’m not feeling up to it today Jack. I’ve been throwing up. Must have eaten something off.” He said. 

Jack hesitated. “Ouch, some bad crawdads down there in Wolf Trap?” He asked.

“Something like that.” Will croaked and pulled the phone from his ear to look at the timer, 19, 20, 21 seconds. “I’ll come down tomorrow. Goodbye, Jack.” He said.

“Alright, feel better-” Jack said, and Will was hanging up the phone. 26 seconds blinked back at him as he hit end call. 

“Very good, Will,” Hannibal smiled at him. “You were wonderful. You deserve an Academy award,” Hannibal began to applaud and Will rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hopefully he believes me, and if he doesn’t hopefully he’ll follow the fake Cuba lead.” Will said as they retreated downstairs.

After Will and Hannibal had finished, Hannibal called their contact and told him that the location had been compromised. They changed the location and the two men shaved in preparation for their plane trip.

Abigail had cleaned all the dishes they had used that morning and was all packed up to go. The trio set out together, hoping and wondering about what would be waiting for them.

.

They boarded the plane, took the flight and disembarked without a sign of trouble. Abigail laid awake, writing in her diary throughout their flight while Will and Hannibal exchanged small words and phrases, always keeping their wits about them and assessing the other passengers. 

Hannibal had taken Will’s glasses, making him fit more into his persona of Dr. Fell, renowned professore. Will had shaved, but left his hair curly, looking more the part of his ID, Anthony Dimmond. Abigail’s persona, Dimmond’s daughter Leda was completely fabricated.

They all seemed appropriately bookish, traveling under the pretense that Fell was coming to work with Dimmond. Leda, also a student of Dimmond’s, in addition to being his daughter, and thus was assisting him in his travels and business.

The three were ready to embark on their new life together in Paris. Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom would hopefully be none the wiser until they were long settled, eating baguettes under a beautiful white lattice facade.

They approached their new home by taxi. It was a charming little apartment building a little ways out of the city. The stories stacked high on top of each other, the pastel but fading paint giving it a rustic and romantic look. There was no white lattice facade, but there were in fact wrought iron balconies off of each apartment. 

Abigail looked up as they gathered their things from the taxi. She couldn’t help but smile, looking around. 

“Close your mouth Abigail, you look like a tourist.” Hannibal chided, but winked at her. He was more guarded about it, but he was also feeling victorious that they were landed, safely in Europe.

They approached the stairwell and began to bring their things upstairs. The apartment was spacious, two bedrooms with gorgeous big fluffy mattresses, a beautiful living room with lavish furnishings and a comfortable looking couch. The kitchen was stark white and gorgeous, with all stainless steel appliances. Just as Will would expect for someone such as Hannibal. 

“I’m going to the market, would anyone care to join me?” Hannibal said, almost the moment they had set their bags down. “I will unpack later, after we have had some hot dinner and fine french wine in us.” He smiled.

“I’ll start unpacking,” Will said, “I’d rather get settled first. Abigail you should go if you want, I’ll be fine here.” 

“Okay,” She said, almost bouncing to Hannibal’s side. “Let’s go,” She smiled.

“I remember perusing these streets as a young boy, Abigail. There were many less buildings and they all seemed much bigger to me then.” Hannibal said, when they had reached street level and were walking slowly, meandering almost in the beautiful parisian sunshine. They approached a cafe that had tables outside, a few couples and straggling people sipping coffee and cappuccinos under umbrellas.

Hannibal separated from her momentarily to speak fluent french “Puis-je acheter du vin et du fromage?” 

She looked at the expensive cheeses, the fine wines. She tried to read the french but didn't understand much yet. 

Hannibal was waiting for the meat he had ordered and Abigail returned to his side. “Would you like to pick a sweet?” He asked.

She shook her head, no. “Tell me what you ordered for us. I want to learn to cook like you,” She said admiringly.

Hannibal smiled. “I ordered us cheese, prosciutto, escargot, chicken and lamb for the next few days. He is also bringing me back a fine riesling from which I will make coq au vin with the chicken. We will braise mushroom and onions in the oven with the meat while it soaks in the sweet wine.” Hannibal described beautifully.

“What kind of cheese?” She asked, curiously, loving the sound of this recipe

“Gouda and Gruyere. Is there another you would like?” He asked.

“Provolone?” She asked. “If you like.” 

“Anything you wish, my dear. Miseur-” He replied, calling him back to request the provolone. “I would love for you to accompany me in the kitchen anytime you wish Abigail.” Hannibal smiled brightly at her. 

When they returned, they cooked together as Will continued to unpack and set the table. He was much less comfortable in the kitchen than the two of them were. He watched them move around each other effortlessly. 

After a beautiful dinner, which Will complimented enthusiastically, the three of them spoke about their plan. 

“We must lay low for a little while,” Hannibal said. “In my life I have had periods of excitement and periods of survival. For now, we must just try to survive.” He said seriously. Hannibal extended his hands out to Abigail and Will, on either side of him at the dining table. “We are family now.”

Abigail nodded. “But you will teach us, won’t you?” she asked

Hannibal cocked his head a little to the side. “If you really would like to learn perhaps I can scrape something together so that we are prepared for the next… situation. However, I do not want you to become sloppy and enamored with the process, Abigail, we must act on opportunities, but not on impulses. Do you understand?”

She nodded again, looking down at the table. “I want to be prepared. I won’t let myself get distracted. Our main goal is survival. I want us to be able to stay together.” She said, understanding that these were high stakes, nowadays for the three of them.

“You are very smart Abigail.” Hannibal said, approvingly. “I will teach you, but the object is always to stay safe, not to be on the offensive. At least for the time being,” He said, indulging in a wink. “Will, you have been awfully quiet,” Hannibal observed.

He looked from Abigail to Hannibal. “Just enjoying our time together. Listening to you two talk, it makes me happier than I have been in a long time.” He said honestly. “If you are going to be teaching Abigail about how you do what you do… I would love to listen too. If you two were both okay with that.” Will said, curious on if they wanted to include him.

“Oh yes, Hannibal! You can give us little lessons.” Abigail was starting to get excited and Hannibal shook his head admiringly at her.

“Sounds like a date.” Hannibal said, happily. He could not have fallen into place with two more perfect people.

Abigail soon grew tired and went to bed. The two men stayed at the table a little longer pouring another glass of the fine riesling Hannibal had chosen.

Hannibal swirled his wine around in his glass, under his nose for a moment. “I shall take the couch, and you may take the master bedroom, Will.” He said, finally. 

Will narrowed his eyes. “That really isn’t necessary,” He said, feeling like Hannibal was babying him all of a sudden. 

“I do not wish to infringe on your personal space and I would not dream of letting either you or Abigail sleep on the couch.” He said, looking ready to argue. 

Will furrowed his eyebrows at the older man. “Hannibal.” He said slowly. “I wanted to run away with you. With you, Hannibal Lecter.” He sighed and looked down at his fidgeting hands. “Don’t make us have this conversation tonight, I’m too exhausted to talk about my feelings. But I know I don’t want one of us to sleep on the couch.” He said, finally and shyly looking up at Hannibal from under his dark lashes. 

Hannibal thought a moment, not making eye contact with Will. Sometimes Will found him easy to read, and sometimes he found him difficult. This time he was particularly blank on what Hannibal might be gearing up to say next.

“Very well, Will. As you wish.” Hannibal said, finally looking up to meet Will’s gaze.

Will’s heart picked up speed with the weight of the acceptance. “Wait, did you say yes?” Will asked, confused. 

“Yes,” Hannibal said, smirking at Will. “Is that a surprise to you?” 

“No,” Will lied. He was looking forward to sharing a bed with Hannibal but it filled his stomach with nervousness. 

Hannibal sipped his wine slowly. “You look quite handsome clean shaven.” 

Will chuckled a little. “You like my baby face? I should have known,” he teased “I feel like I look like a college student again with no scruff.” Will said, fine with the topic change. 

“More like a college professor,” Hannibal smirked at Will. “Why must you perpetually deflect my compliments? Hm?” 

They laughed quietly and sipped their wine. “Thank you for the compliment.” Will amended, the nervousness in his stomach easing up. They were almost done with their wine but Will was tired and wanted to climb into bed that very moment. 

“I'm going to wash and dress for bed. Join me whenever you are ready.” Hannibal said, reading his mind. He draining his wine glass and heading down the hall to the master bedroom. 

Will sat, finishing his wine slowly. He stood, bringing the two wine glasses to the counter by the sink and went to join Hannibal.

The older man was in satin pajama pants, and seemed to have washed his face, drying it with a hand towel. 

Will took his shirt off, tossing it on a chair in the corner of the room. He bent to remove his slacks, standing in his boxers, and a white undershirt. 

Hannibal stared, unabashedly at Will as he undressed. He was not in the habit of controlling his urges around Will any longer. The two men were becoming one. 

“This okay?” Will asked, feeling a little dissected under Hannibal's gaze. 

“Mm.” Hannibal nodded curtly, shifting his gaze away from Will then. “just appreciating the familiarity with which you were disrobing,” 

Will chuckled, becoming fully relaxed. “I was dressed this way when we had our first breakfast together. I hardly consider it disrobing,” he said, nonchalantly pulling the covers back and laying down in the bed they were going to share as if it were the most natural thing he had ever done. 

Hannibal could sense his raised heartbeat and could almost hear it pounding through Will’s thin t shirt. 

“True, but that feels like ages ago, a lifetime maybe.” Hannibal said, pulling the sheets down and slowly climbing into bed. “If this becomes overwhelming, Will, all you must do is say the word.” He began to make excuses

“Hannibal,” Will almost whined, “I can't believe I'm the one telling you to relax.” He extended his hand, palm up, across the half way point on the mattress, and Hannibal stared at it. 

He looked from Will’s hand to Will’s eyes. “I count myself lucky that you are choosing this. Choosing us. Choosing me.” he said, and slowly, carefully took Will’s hand.

“The thought of losing you became too much to bear.” Will said rubbing his thumb in careful circles on Hannibal’s hand.

“I can certainly sympathize with that,” Hannibal replied in a soft whisper. 

“Thank you,” Will said, also whispering, now, after a moment of silence between the two.

“For…?” Hannibal asked, ever curious.

“For saving Abigail,” Will murmured.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail cooks breakfast.

Abigail rose first the next morning, after they had arrived in Paris, and she cooked breakfast silently as her new fathers slept. Hannibal had certainly deserved the rest. After being up for so long she imagined he was exhausted. She had gotten to sleep almost the entire morning after they made it to Nova Scotia, while Hannibal and Will stayed vigilant and working towards their safety. 

It was better that way. She was fresher, ready for action. She remembered shooting the man at the cottage in her mind’s eye. Relief. She remembered seeing him squirming, mangled. She could not even shoot a gun right. 

She shook those thoughts from her head, remembering both Will and Hannibal praising her for the shot, telling her how much she had helped the team.

It dawned on her, then, as she padded softly back through the hall to the living room. No one on the couch. She smiled widely to herself, allowing herself a moment of victory. She remembered speaking to Hannibal about whether or not he had romantic feelings for Will more than once while she stayed with him.

“Hannibal… Have you told Will you love him? If that’s not too much to ask. I’m just curious what page you two are on.” She cooked for Hannibal one evening, as he sat at the bar and gave her gentle instructions. At this moment, his eyes narrowed, and his posture straightened, stiffened minutely. 

“I speak frankly with you Abigail, because we are bound together by fate.” Hannibal said evasively. “No, Will and I have had no such discussions. I do not expect he feels for me what I feel for him.” He said, sighing, eventually looking down and away from Abigail.

She set down the knife and onion she was dicing. “Are you serious? It’s easy to see he feels something for you, I can’t believe you never asked him. You’re always poking and prodding I just figured…” 

He tilted his head at the girl, wondering how they got to this situation. “You’re funny, Abigail, you know that?” 

Back in the current moment, she finished up chopping the veggies for the omelette she was preparing. She leaned on the counter and smiled, thinking about Hannibal and Will, sleeping in the master bedroom of the flat, while she cooked breakfast. 

Even though Hannibal had told her this could be a possibility, she was never prepared to slide herself into the equation. She could picture Will choosing Hannibal, but she could never quite picture Will choosing her. 

Abigail had many dreams, like Will, where he killed her just as her father tried to. It was always because she wasn’t good enough, or she had done something Will couldn’t forgive. Something like killing Nick Boyle, or helping her dad kill the girls who looked like her, she thought. 

It had surprised her when Will had so readily accepted both of them, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe she still thought Will was above them for not enjoying this as readily as Hannibal and Abigail both did. 

“Good morning,” Will said softly, padding out into the kitchen.

“Morning, you hungry?” She smiled, committing this Will to memory. This Will with his mussed up hair, this Will in a bathrobe with a large swirling L embroidered on the breast. She never wanted to forget it.

All was quiet for a long while for the three. Will and Hannibal allowed a romance to blossom within the sweet little flat they lived in. But Hannibal went to work everyday as Dr. Fell, Abigail went to the shoppes everyday to gather supplies for a beautiful meal, and some combination of the three would cook dinner and discuss their days and their plans. Hannibal would sometimes read to them after dinner or play classical music for them from a record player he picked up. 

After a while of peaceful survival, Abigail came home one day, looking rattled. 

“What's the matter my dear?” Hannibal asked. “You look upset. Tell me what happened.”

She looked up at the ceiling. “Just an asshole on the street. Slapped my ass as he walked past. I cursed him off in French though.”

Hannibal looked outside. “It’s quite late. This happened just now?” he asked looking doubtful. 

Abigail shifted.

“Have you done something we will regret Abigail?” he asked, patiently. 

“No,” she huffed and sat next to Hannibal. “I followed him though. I wanted to kill him. But I heard you and Will, telling me to be strong and to be smart. So I came home.” 

He patted her on the knee. “You have matured into a fine young woman, Abigail.”

“Thanks Hannibal,” She said and leaned against his shoulder. 

“We will wait for Will to return and we shall all go together to kill him.” Hannibal said, matter of factly.

“What?” Abigail asked suddenly, reeling from the unexpected turn to Hannibal’s plan.

“We shall all go together. Scope it out. We shall make a plan of attack and then we shall kill him.” Hannibal had a glint in his eye as he stared at his shocked Abigail. 

Will took that opportunity to enter the scene, carrying a paper bag of Hannibal’s favorite groceries and instantly he sensed the tension in the room. “What’s wrong?” He asked, immediately

“Will, just in time. We’re planning a murder.” Hannibal said nonchalantly, again.

Will scoffed, and put the groceries down on the coffee table. When Hannibal didn’t laugh he looked to Abigail. “You’re serious?” He asked.

“Someone touched our Abigail on the street today. She followed him but came home without killing him, thinking of our safety. I think we should act together, as a unit.” Hannibal said. “This could be an opportunity.” 

Will stared at Hannibal, and then, finally, assessed Abigail. “You wanted to kill him?” Will asked of her. 

She nodded. “I imagined it. He was alone, at home. Looks like a bachelor. No one would miss him.” She shrugged at her father figures. “I was thinking of you two when I turned and left him breathing.” Abigail said, darkly.

Will sat down, taking a moment to process the story. “Let’s do it.” He said, at once, addressing the two with eager eyes. “Let me have a glass of wine first though. Don’t you think Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s eyes glinted in excitement back at him. “A glass of wine to discuss our plan. Whiskey when the job is done.” He winked at Will and the younger man gave a little chuckle. 

Abigail looked from Will to Hannibal, feeling excitement and anticipation. She told them all the details about the house, where he could be found, and what the bedroom looked like from the window. She had climbed a tree on the property to see inside.

“I think we should go in from the window.” Abigail said, as she drew as much as she was able to see from the tree. She looked up at Hannibal but he was listening intently, letting her suggest her plan. 

“It’s so warm out, he might even have it open now that it’s evening and it’s gotten cooler,” Will suggested, “Bachelors who live alone often can’t afford AC,” He said to Hannibal’s puzzled look.

“So the window,” Abigail continued. “Will can go downstairs to make sure he doesn’t have a dog while Hannibal and I wait for your signal. Then we duct tape his mouth and wake him up. I’ll say something quippy about keeping your hands to yourself and I’ll cut his throat. You two can chip in if I need help.” She suggested.

Hannibal nodded his agreement. “We shall all be wearing new clothes I purchased for this occasion, surgical masks and surgical gloves. We must leave no DNA, no clues behind. ” 

.

Dressed in the new black clothing, that Hannibal had bought for the trio, masks and gloves in pocket, they set out on the streets of Paris. Abigail led them to the home of their suspect, and they began to watch the house. Will had predicted correctly, and they were all pleased to find the window ajar, letting in the cool night air. 

Abigail scurried up the tree, followed by the nimble Hannibal, finally Will ascending into the large old tree. She really had found a fabulous victim. Hannibal was so right that this could be an opportunity. There were rarely such beautiful trees with large branches, sturdy enough to hold three adults. What were the odds? 

They noiselessly waited for the lights to all turn out and for the man to go to bed. After a while they heard muffled snoring coming from the window. Abigail and Will strained, but Hannibal had been the first to detect it. They nimbly leapt into the house from the tree branch, just as Abigail suspected they would be able to.

Will silently went down the stairs, and before the two knew it, he came back up and gave Hannibal and Abigail the thumbs up. The rest of the house was empty of either dogs or humans.

Hannibal handed Abigail a screwdriver and lifted a stretch of duct tape to cover the man’s mouth. He woke up instantly, eyes wide both from the noise of the duct tape ripping and the sensation of his mouth being covered. Hannibal moved then to hold his hands down as Abigail began to speak in a terrifying whisper.

“Remember me?” Abigail asked, the screwdriver headed into the man’s thigh. “Remember what happened earlier? Didn’t think a little girl like me could do any damage did you?” The screwdriver dug in, drawing blood this time, and the man squirmed beneath Abigail’s touch. Will walked into the room a little farther, assessing Hannibal’s posture, expertly holding the man’s two hands down with one of his. He smiled as he looked on at Abigail and Will committed Hannibal’s smile to memory. 

This was the first time they had killed together, the first time they had been so intimate together since they had fled the states successfully. Will never wanted to forget the rage on Abigail’s face in the moonlight, streaming in from the open window, lighting Hannibal’s delighted grin, and the man squirming and crying out, though muffled by the duct tape. 

Will moved to hold the man’s squirming feet, letting Abigail have full reign to do as she pleased with the man. When the man began to protest too loudly, when even the duct tape was letting through muffled screams, Hannibal looked up, trying to catch Abigail’s gaze.

“That’s enough,” He said quietly. “We must finish him and head home.” 

“Yes, father,” Abigail said, robotically taking out her pocket knife and slitting the man’s throat. Will continued to hold his feet until they stilled. 

They noiselessly left the apartment, heading home and collecting themselves in the foyer.

“Abigail, you shower first. Get in, clothes and all and then leave them wet for me in the sink.” Hannibal directed. She moved into the bathroom slowly, without speaking to either of them.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Will asked, surprised that he was feeling as calm as he was. Hannibal did as he promised and moved to open the whiskey snifter, pouring two hefty drinks. 

“She will be,” Hannibal said matter of factly, handing Will the whiskey.

“Fair enough.” Will said, tipping his cup to clink against Hannibal’s. 

They downed their drinks quickly and Hannibal came to stand closer to Will. “You did very well tonight. You have had no discussions about this section of our lives with me since we arrived here in Paris, Will.”

“Yes, well, isn’t no news good news?” Will quipped back, with a smirk.

“Just wanted to check in with your feelings on all of this. You accepted so readily tonight, it was a little bit of a surprise.” Hannibal suggested.

“I’m accepting things a lot more readily than I have ever in the past.” Will suggested back, heading to the kitchen, sipping on his whiskey.

Hannibal followed, intrigued and appreciative of the familiar easy way with which Will was opening the fridge and pulling out a block of gruyere cheese, cutting a piece and bringing it to his mouth. 

“Yes, you have been,” Hannibal replied after their long loaded silence.

Will crossed the room and captured Hannibal’s lips with his, kissing him passionately.

“Everyday you surprise me more and more.” Hannibal murmured and he and Will smiled at each other in the quiet of their flat. 

The two men showered after Abigail, dealt with the soiled clothes and retired in their pajamas to drink wine and discuss the evening at the kitchen table.

“Thank you for tonight,” Abigail said quietly, entering the room, her wet hair in a loose ponytail.

“Anything for our Abigail,” Hannibal said, gesturing for her to sit at the table with them.

Will poured her a glass of malbec and she sipped with them, smiling at their newfound companionship, until they grew too tired to keep their eyes open any longer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finally gets to throw a party.

After a while of peaceful Parisian life, Hannibal gathered the three of them together in the kitchen. He sat them at the table, and poured two glasses of red wine, for Will and Abigail. None for himself, which meant he was planning.

“I want to throw a dinner party,” Hannibal said, suavely. 

He and Will had discussed it privately, but they had only mused about how Abigail would respond to the idea. 

“For how many people?” Abigail asked, curiously.

“Only one.” Hannibal said, 

“We must be incredibly careful,” Will contributed.

“Who is our guest?” Abigail asked slowly, catching on that Hannibal and Will already seemed to be on the same page.

“A colleague of mine. He is a quite rude, simple man. I expect he cheats on his wife as he openly speaks of how much he detests her.” Hannibal suggested. “An overall, terrible man.” 

“And you don’t think he will tell anyone where he has gone for dinner? What about this wife?” Abigail asked

“As I said he is a gossip. She will be away this coming weekend. I plan to invite him spur of the moment, after work. If she is in Japan as he says she will be, there will be a 7 hour time difference. As long as I catch him after 5pm it will be after midnight where she is.” Hannibal explained the details of his plan as Abigail sipped the blood red wine. “I can watch him and make sure he does not use his telephone until he can be… subdued.” 

Will raised his eyebrows at Abigail. “What do you think?” He asked of her.

“You want my honest input?” She asked again

“You’re one of the team now, Abigail, must we always remind you?” Hannibal asked teasingly.

“I think it’s a good plan,” She bounced to the edge of her seat. “Tell me more,” She suggested, “What recipe card did you pick?” She asked, her eyes turning dark and Hannibal grinned.

.

Friday night’s dinner came quicker than anyone had expected. Even Hannibal was feeling a little bit nervous. He was getting so used to letting his guard down, it was beginning to feel weird to pull on his person suit and zip it up tight again. 

Yet, to get the professore to Hannibal’s home he must be charming, polite, intelligent, and most of all witty. 

“Where are you headed, my fine friend?” Hannibal said, taking a nonchalant glance at his wristwatch. 5:37pm. He smiled brightly at the other man.

“Home for some quiet time and some leftover stew from yesterday,” Professore Claude replied.

“I prepared a large dinner for tonight and the company I was expecting cancelled on me. Please, join me for dinner at my flat with my husband and our daughter.” Hannibal suggested. 

“You’re sure it would not be an imposition?” he asked smiling, looking hopeful. 

“It would be our pleasure.” Hannibal said, his eyes gleaming. 

.

Earlier that afternoon, just after 12, Will sat in the foyer of their flat. He was arranging the pillows, tidying up and basically just fidgeting nervously. Hannibal had already cleaned the whole house so it was pointless. Will was just keeping his hands busy at this point. 

Will heard keys jingle in the door, and Abigail entered the flat. She was carrying a parcel wrapped in a blanket. 

“What's that?” Will asked tentatively. 

Abigail pulled back the fold of the blanket to reveal a little scraggly jack russell terrier with no collar. 

“Found her today. She looked hungry. I couldn't leave her.” She said. 

“Absolutely not.” Will said at once. “We'll have to leave her eventually. It's not fair. To them or to me.” Will murmured, holding his hands balled tight into fists instead of petting the cute dog that sniffed the air and gave no fuss to Abigail holding it. 

“She's good, she lets me pick her up, and she's small enough that I can hide her in my room when Hannibal has his dinner date tonight,” Abigail suggested. “Please?” finally, she resorted to begging and Will looked away from her pouting eyes. 

Will stared at the wall, feeling pangs of sadness, missing Winston and the rest of his crew of lost pups. He imagined Alana somewhere, cuddling up with them. 

“I'm calling Hannibal.” Will said, flipping out his phone. 

“Hello, darling.” Hannibal purred into the phone when he answered.

“Hello Hannibal, I'm calling to tell you that your daughter has just brought home a stray dog.” Will said, into the phone and Abigail raised an eyebrow. 

Hannibal chuckled into the receiver. “You do not have to blame our daughter, Will. I was wondering when you would start rescuing strays again. I thought it was only a matter of time.” 

“What?” Will asked dumbfounded. “It wasn't me it was Abigail,” Will insisted. 

“Is he small enough to be locked in a room for a few hours?” Hannibal asked, sounding lazy and curious

“Yes…” Will trailed 

“Then it's fine by me.” Hannibal said and cheekily added. “No matter who brought her home in the first place.”

Will sighed. 

“I must go, I will see you tonight my darling boy,” Hannibal said and Will could hear the smile. 

Will murmured “You too,” and hung up the phone. 

“What did he say?” Abigail asked with a big smile on her face, Will glanced at her shaking his head. He collapsed on the couch. 

“You win, he stays,” Will said. 

“She,” Abigail corrected. She let the dog down, and the small scraggly terrier instantly ran up to Will, who sat back, disinterested.

Will eyed Abigail again before leaning down the pet the small stray. “You’ll have to choose a name,” Will told her, seriously. 

Abigail grinned. She hoped Will wouldn’t keep up this facade of being angry. Once Hannibal approved, she had hoped she was home free. “I’d be willing to take suggestions,” Abigail said smiling at Will, now patting the head of the little jack russell, cooing at her gently. 

He paused to glance up at Abigail. “You brought her home, you get to pick her name.” He smiled at her then, “Those are the rules.” 

Abigail thought for a moment. “I think I like Bonnie,” She said, smiling at Will.

“Like Bonnie and Clyde?” Will asked, laughing a little.

“No, like bon-bons. Yes, like Bonnie and Clyde!” Abigail giggled along with Will and little Bonnie wagged her tail at the pair.

“I don’t know who taught you to be so sarcastic,” Will chided, “Or to bring home mangy mutts like this. Are you a mangy mutt? Yes you are,” he said, finally giving into showing the pup some affection.

Will was loath to admit it, as he was appreciative to still even be alive, but he missed his dogs so dearly. It had hit him hard to have to leave them behind. They were a part of his life before any of the changes started coming.

Abigail had sensed exactly what Will had needed. In reality, she suspected that Hannibal had planted the seed purposefully. He had mentioned something offhandedly, disguising it as making fun of Will. 

“I wonder when the first stray will show up,” Hannibal had said flippantly to Abigail in the kitchen over tea.

Abigail had laughed, but afterward she had ruminated. The flat was entirely theirs, there was no rule against pets, and there was nothing barring Will from bringing home a stray dog. So why hadn’t he? Abigail had thought about it until it made her brain itch and finally today, she saw the little terrier as a sign.

“She's not even going to want me anymore after you spoil her,” Abigail joked and Will caught himself grinning.

“How do you and Hannibal both do this so easily?” Will asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Do what?” Abigail asked, taking the bait.

“Know me better than I know myself,” Will said.

.

“Professore,” Will began, later that evening as they sat at the dining table which Hannibal and Will had moved from the kitchen to the living room. “Do you consider yourself an adventurous eater?” The man had nodded at Will, languidly. 

Hannibal’s first course had been seafood as he often appreciates starting out with, particularly with the fine Parisian goods available. Roasted clams drizzled with garlic olive oil had been set out on gorgeous appetizer plates. 

“I try to be adventurous when given the opportunity,” Claude had responded

“My husband is most definitely an adventurous chef,” Will chuckled, receiving a sideways look from Abigail and a look of admiration from Hannibal.

“You mock me, my dear Anthony,” Hannibal began, his eyes alight as he spoke to Will using their fake names. “I have been quite the traditional chef tonight. Bruschetta will follow this, fresh bread, fresh mozzarella, and fresh basil. Then, provencal chicken for our main course.” 

“Anything you create has your usual flair to it, Roman.” Will replied. 

“I must confess, I did catch our dear Leda here, plucking an olive from the chicken earlier.” Hannibal smirked at Abigail, who turned a little pink under his gaze.

“It was delicious,” Abigail said, on cue.

“Thank you for such a kind dinner invitation, Dr. Fell,” the professore said.

“Please, call me Roman,” Hannibal snarled a smile at the man as he envisioned the way he, Will and Abigail would dispose of him later this very evening. “More wine, Claude?” Hannibal asked, pouring without waiting for his answer.

“Thank you,” Claude laughed. “Tell me, child, have you seen the museums since you have arrived?” 

“I’ve been to the Modern Art museum a few times,” Abigail said, “I like those exhibits the best. I’ve seen Petit Palais, but I didn’t care to go back yet,” she spoke eloquently and Hannibal wondered if she told only the truth or if she had conjured such a vehement opinion.

“Ah, you children have no taste,” Claude said, rudely. “Or perhaps, it is just women in general, no? My wife would probably adore you. I however, cannot disagree more,” the old professore chuckled. 

“Sounds like a wise woman,” Abigail retorted and the professore sized her up again.

“And what of the Louvre?” He added, almost in addendum.

“Fabulous,” Abigail said, without elaboration.

“I liked Petit Palais best as well, professore,” Hannibal chimed in, “Nothing in the modern museum has quite the same heart as the pieces from the 1900s.”

“Quite right, Roman, my good man,” He said, taking a sloppy sip of his wine.

After many trips into the kitchen for more wine, more food, and finally dessert, Hannibal was itching to finish the evening. 

“My dear Husband, would you accompany me in the kitchen for just a moment?” Hannibal asked of Will eventually, as professore Claude talked to Abigail. 

The more he spoke the more intricately Abigail fantasized about killing him. 

“I want you to strike the final blow, William.” Hannibal whispered once the pair made it to the kitchen. 

“Me?” Will asked in an incredulous whisper. “Without any mental prep?” he asked, eyes wide, his pulse already climbing steadily. 

Hannibal smirked. “Precisely. Without time for you to panic.” he suggested instead. 

Will eyed him, not quite sure he agreed that those two things were synonymous. 

“It’s quite simple. He's had sedative in his drink since the beginning of the evening.” Hannibal murmured as he ran the faucet, pretending to begin some dishes. “Just walk behind him and snap his neck. He won’t be able to respond quick enough to see it coming,”

“I was under the impression that the buzz word for tonight was caution,” Will suggested, eyes wide, hoping to convey to Hannibal that he did not feel ready to do this. “Wouldn’t it just be simpler if you did it?” Will asked exasperatedly

“You’re spoiling my fun, Anthony,” Hannibal said, shutting the faucet and shaking his head. “Such a disappointment,” He murmured, beginning to step back toward the dining room. This put him and Will on opposite sides of kitchen, and Hannibal was eyeing Will, his eyes alight with mischief. “Must you always be my better half?” 

Hannibal winked at Will, before turning his back. He strolled back into the dining room and for the moment, Will wanted to hear instead of see. 

“Professore, are you enjoying your dessert?” Will heard Hannibal’s smooth tone and leaned against the kitchen counter, letting the events unfold without him.

“Oh, it’s scrumptious,” Will heard Claude reply.

“Lovely,” Will had braced himself for the impact upon hearing Hannibal’s distracted reply, before he had even heard the bones snapping. When it came, Will shut his eyes and tried to put the image of what the man must look like at that moment out of his mind.

Abigail muttered something too low for Will to make out from the kitchen, but her tone sounded impeccably derogatory. 

“Quite right my dear. I was apparently wasting my time trying to convince your father in there to do what I just did. He refused.” Hannibal said, ratting him out in an instant.

“Did he really?” Will heard Abigail ask softly, 

“Surprised?” Hannibal asked of Abigail in return

“It’s Will, unpredictable is his default.” Abigail said, and he heard her chair scrape against the floor. He turned and opened the faucet, pushing his hands under the stream, washing them so he could be busy doing something. 

He dried his hands on a towel and turned, Abigail standing in the hallway to the kitchen like a vision. Will imagined her as his guardian angel. He pictured her with large beautiful wings extending from her shoulder blades. 

“What?” he asked of her.

“Do you want to talk?” She asked, cocking her head a little to the side. 

Will looked at her sheepishly. “I’d like to take you up on that, but I’m not sure I’m ready,” He said truthfully

Abigail looked off to the side a minute, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why didn’t you think you could do it?” 

Will rolled his eyes. “You and Hannibal are exactly the same. You’re here to talk but you want to know now.” He moved to head into the hallway. 

“Hannibal doesn’t need any help in there, he told me to keep you here,” Abigail suggested, bringing a hand up, hoping to stop Will. 

He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanted to go see Bonnie,” Will said, pushing past Abigail to close himself in his and Hannibal’s room for a moment. He sat on the floor next to the bed, his back leaning against it. Bonnie was comfortable on the covers, but when he sat she came and wagged her tail, waiting to be invited into his lap.

“You’re such a good girl,” Will murmured pleasantries to the dog, and tried to think about calming down a little. Why had he not wanted to do what Hannibal instructed? He had frozen, just as he was worried he would do. His instincts kicked in just fine back when he killed the intruder at the Nova Scotia cottage, but this dinner party had felt different. There was something that paralyzed him when he thought of speaking flowing, gentle conversation to someone one moment and snapping their neck the next. 

Will scooped Bonnie up into his arms and headed back into the main area of the flat. “Abigail?” He called, returning to the kitchen. Bonnie was so gentle she didn’t mind being held in Will’s arms like a baby one bit. She seemed, in fact, to enjoy it. 

Abigail returned to the kitchen, “Ready to talk?” She asked, heading to the wine fridge and pulling a chilled pinot grigio. She took down two fresh wine glasses and stood at the kitchen counter with Will. 

“If your offer still stands,” Will said, smiling at Abigail. She nodded and poured the wine, two generous glasses for the pair.

“Of course it does. We can talk any time you like.” Abigail said, smiling and sipping the cool white wine. 

Will stared at the wine on the counter and put Bonnie down. “Stay,” He told her and she laid down at his feet. “Good girl,” He said and turned his attention to Abigail. “I was scared. Feeling off tonight.” Will said, in fragments. “I think Bonnie made me a little homesick,” Will said, quieter even still. He didn’t want Hannibal to have to worry. He was already planning to stay up all night cooking and packing food away in the freezer, leftovers from his dinner date with the professore.

“Yeah?” Abigail asked. “You miss your dogs?” 

“Among other things,” Will nodded, quietly. “I miss not feeling guilty half the time. I guess I used to feel guilty all the time for having thoughts that were… unsavory. But now I do those things. I act on those unsavory thoughts.” Will sighed and took a long swig of wine. “I think it’s just catching up with me tonight is all,”

Abigail ran her finger along the rim of her wine glass. “I’m sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to bring Bonnie here to mock you, I thought maybe she would cheer you up.”

“She has, really, I appreciate Bonnie, she’s a sweetie.” Will replied, smiling down at the terrier who was already perking her ears up when she heard her new name. 

“Sometimes Hannibal and I can’t figure out how to make you feel better. I want you to tell us if we get it wrong,” Abigail said, slowly. “You get me? 

“She’s perfect, Abigail. It just made me a little sad, as well, but for me, happy means sad, means depressed, means grateful, they just all come at once for me. Once I start feeling one emotion they all start up.” Will shook his head a little, willing himself to get back on track. “I’m sorry I didn’t feel up to Hannibal’s little surprise challenge for me tonight. I see where he was coming from, not enough time to panic, and what not, but it just made me too nervous.” 

Abigail blinked at him blankly. “I’m sorry...what? He didn’t tell you earlier that he wanted you to kill him?” she asked slowly

Will’s shoulders slumped a little bit. “No. When we came in the kitchen during dessert he suggested it. When did he tell you?” 

Abigail ignored Will’s question and stalked to the exit to the kitchen, leaning toward the living room. “Dr. Fell, if you would please accompany us in the kitchen, just for a minute.” Abigail called through the hallway.

“Of course,” Hannibal replied, and after a few moments, he appeared in the kitchen, looking a little disheveled. “Now… My dear Abigail beckoned me, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Tell Will when you told me you wanted him to kill the professore.” Abigail said immediately her arms crossed over her chest, and Hannibal cocked his head at her a moment. He respected her though, so he turned to Will.

“At the beginning of the week. When we had our family meeting.” Hannibal admitted.

Will closed his eyes and Bonnie jumped at his leg. He picked her up and pet her gently. “I think I might have wanted to do it if you’d told me earlier. I’ve never snapped anyone’s neck, I was so worried that I would mess it up. But you’ve done it, what, too many times to count? I’m here, and I’m willing, but I need guidance.” Will said, a little exasperated. He could still feel his heart racing from when Hannibal asked him to finish the job for them. 

“I also would have appreciated the chance to take up the job if Will was refusing. I was wondering what you two were gossiping about in here for so long during dessert. You need to communicate more, Hannibal,” Abigail said, also feeling a little jilted. 

“Next time you need to show me exactly what to do and I definitely need more time to wrap my head around it.” Will said in Hannibal’s awkward silence.

Hannibal smirked at them then, “Next time?” He echoed and smiled brilliantly at them and Will all but rolled his eyes. “Thank you for the notes, my fine family, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier Will. Old habits die hard.” His smirk only deepened and he strolled closer into the kitchen, closer to Will. Abigail scoffed. “I must stop withholding plans because I want to surprise you.” He said standing in front of Will.

“It’s okay,” Will said, softening then, at Hannibal’s concerned gaze. 

Will and Hannibal kissed then, for just a moment and Bonnie barked, startling Hannibal. “It’s okay girl,” Will said breathily as they parted. 

“Will you forgive my ill thought out scheme?” Hannibal asked. “We will make a more cohesive plan together next time.” Hannibal promised.

“Of course.” Will said.

Abigail came to stand with them again. “No more secrets, Hannibal, okay?” Abigail requested.

Hannibal eyed the two partners he counted himself lucky to have stumbled across during their former lives. “No more secrets.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail sees someone familiar at their usual Parisian shoppe.

One day, Abigail ran into the flat, breathing heavy and ragged from running. Hannibal and Will sat in the living room, wine and cheese on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Abigail what happened?” Hannibal asked. Bonnie quirked her furry little head from her seat on the floor.

Abigail turned her attention, eyes wide, to the pair. “They found us.” she whispered. “She was waiting for me.” 

Will stood and went over to her. “Who?” he asked 

She looked up at him, eyes wide with terror. “Dr. Bloom. She was sitting in front of our usual shoppe. I don't think she saw me, but that means Crawford's not far behind.” she explained

Will comforted Abigail. “We're prepared, we’ve talked about this. We just have to lay low.” 

As Will talked to Abigail, Hannibal had robotically snapped open his phone. He spoke in french for a few moments, and moved to the kitchen to make arrangements. 

“We were already laying low,” Abigail argued with Will, frustrated. “Do you think I spoke too much with the shopkeeper?” she asked. 

“I'm sure it's got nothing to do with you Abigail, let's try to stay calm and see what Hannibal thinks.” Will suggested. 

When he got off the phone Hannibal said to them. “Pack your bags, we are going to spend a few days elsewhere. We shall take a train into Germany.” he explained their sudden plans to move and get away from the city for a while. 

“Do you think they'll know where to find us?” Abigail asked, wide eyed.

“I do not know Abigail, so let us move quickly.” Hannibal said calmly, patting her shoulder and bringing her to her room. 

“You think it's wise to travel?” Will asked in a whisper when Abigail retreated to her room to pack “Maybe we shouldn't take public transit.” he pointed out 

“Let me think, pack first,” he replied 

They gathered everything they thought they might need and met back up in the kitchen. 

“Alright. Will made a good point about being too much like sitting ducks on public transit. God forbid they have relevant information we should stay under the radar.” Hannibal sighed and looked at the captive attention Abigail and Will gave him. “Will, you will go with Abigail and rent a car in Leda Dimmond’s name. I will stay here, I want to walk down to the shoppes and see if I can get a good look at Alana before we go. Perhaps wring her neck where she stands.” 

“I think we should just stay together.” Abigail said, putting a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. “It felt like a trap. Felt like a trap so much that I turned and ran. Let's just rent the car and go.” Abigail interrupted. “I saw her, it was Dr. Bloom.” She said. “We need to go now,” Abigail said to Hannibal.

As she spoke there was a knock on the door. Will and Abigail froze and Hannibal looked at them expectantly. 

A moment later the living room was empty and Hannibal was peeping through the small eyehole. 

“Do I know you?” Hannibal asked, immediately. Will and Abigail listened with bated breath from the master bedroom.

“Police Nationale. We would like to ask you a few questions.” The officer said. “Is this the address of Doctor Fell?” 

“Yes. I just finished up in the shower however, my dear man, would you mind waiting a moment while I dress?” Hannibal intoned sweetly, speaking french flawlessly. 

“Fine,” the officer huffed. Hannibal could tell that this man probably didn’t enjoy women like Alana coming in and bossing him around. Probably didn’t believe that Hannibal could be laying low at such a prestigious university job. 

The officer waited a minute or so before calling into the flat again. “Doctor Fell??” No response. He cursed and broke open the door. 

The officers rushed into the apartment, finding it empty. They searched the bedrooms, searched the living room, but the trio were nowhere to be found. 

An officer called from the balcony. Their flat was not high off the ground, maybe four stories. As the chief inspected approached, he squinted. There was a large antique weighted anchor on the balcony with enough sheets tied to it to get all the way to the ground. 

They had prepared the item a long time ago, and while Hannibal stalled the officers, Will and Abigail tossed the sheets off the balcony and started climbing down.

Abigail had stuffed Bonnie in her knapsack as they shimmied down the sheets. Once they got to the bottom Abigail let the little terrier stick her head out.

“Here goes nothing,” Will had whispered to her and gone first, so if she slips he could try to catch her or she could try to latch onto him.

Abigail was heading over as Hannibal approached and he followed nimbly behind. 

“Go, go, go,” The officers rushed out of the flat, chasing after the trio. They had made it to the ground level and were attempting to disappear until they could make it to the street. 

“We have to steal a car,” Will whispered to Hannibal, “If we make it to the street I can hotwire one if we can find one unlocked.”

“Too many ifs, William,” Hannibal suggested, “Professore Claude’s car has sat in the lot of the university since we had him for dinner the other night, let’s take his car, it’s only another block and I know where it is. I have the keys.” He pulled them from his bag

“Okay, good plan,” Will whispered

Abigail was shuffling in her bag, taking out her black wig and flipping it over her head. “Good, Abigail,” Will said, nudging his scruff anxiously. 

He handed his glasses to Hannibal who put them on, low on his nose. 

They made it to the street and amazingly they made it the block back to Hannibal's university.

Above, in their flat Alana Bloom stood with Bedelia Du Maurier. “They can’t have gotten far. We were just a little too late.” Alana said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“They knew we would find them at some point. We are belated since Jack has been denounced and discouraged. With his intellect we may have been here sooner,” Bedelia commented. She strolled to the kitchen, where she could no longer see the balcony. 

In the kitchen, she smelled Hannibal, could see evidence of him everywhere. She pulled a corked bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge and poured two glasses bringing one back to Alana. 

“To our health,” Bedelia said, and she toasted Alana, tipping their glasses together gently.

“To catching them,” Alana said, her eyes hard.

Back down below, the three scrambled into the poor dead professore Claude’s car and they were off. Abigail let Bonnie out in the car but she didn't move from her snuggled up spot right in Abigail's lap. 

The trio drove up to Amsterdam, about five hours drive. They bought train tickets from there to Hamburg, Germany, and then drove south instead, to Luxembourg, finally settling for the night in Switzerland, many hours later. 

It was almost ten in the morning by the time they checked into a dingy Swiss motel.

Abigail checked them in under her fake name. They were still hoping that the police were operating under the assumption that Abigail was dead. They would be looking for Will and Hannibal, but she had kept a pretty low profile in Paris. The evidence Hannibal had left them with made it so that no one wanted to assume Abigail was alive. It would be incredibly difficult to search for her with Hannibal and Will on the run. Any prints they found in the house would take at least a little time to be traced back to Abigail. 

So they stayed holed up in the motel room. Abigail went out for them and bought sparse groceries. Hannibal made them switch up their usual favorites. He said they must change wine, change their cheese and meat spreads, as well as their usual favorite meals. 

They were surviving off of cold sandwiches and take out food. Hannibal thought this hell was almost worse than prison. He longed to stand at the stove and work over a hot frying pan. Will and Abigail weren’t having any cabin fever, but they were intensely aware of Hannibal’s discomfort. He preferred the fancy, beautiful, luxurious things in life, so to stay in the motel was torture.

They got out to walk Bonnie every day for a little while but it was not nearly enough excitement for Hannibal. 

“They are going to find us. We cannot persist like this. We must go to meet them. Fight them. We must have a plan.” Hannibal suggested. 

Every day it was more of the same. Hannibal would run a new plan by Abigail and Will, they would like it but ultimately point out a flaw or two. They would offer solutions or contributions but Hannibal was never satisfied. 

He stayed up each night, sat at the little motel desk for hours after they ate stale takeout, scribbling in his notebook. Hannibal used his impossible code and Will would sigh over him as he read, or he sat with Abigail and played chess or cards. 

Then, he would discuss the plan with the other two, they would talk and Hannibal would head immediately back to the drawing board. It was an infuriating cycle.

One day, Will said suddenly. “Everyone, pack your things. We’re leaving.” he said.

“Where to, Will?” Hannibal asked, narrowing his eyes. 

They drove for two days. Will drove for 12 hours, as they discussed what they would find where they were headed. 

Hannibal drove for a few hours as Will slept comfortably in the passenger seat, and Abigail dozed in the back.

When they finally reached their destination the weather was rolling in deep and gray. 

“I’m not sure this is right Will. I vowed never to come back here.” Hannibal said, shifting nervously in the passenger seat of the car. 

“Would you like to stay in the car?” Will asked patiently

Abigail was awake again and ready for action. “You okay Hannibal? You can stay if you want. Someone should stay with Bonnie anyway,” She said.

“I’m afraid things will come to a head in there.” Hannibal said, evasively.

“And Abigail and I can handle it,” Will said decisively “If you vowed never to come back, we understand that. But we can’t go on without this piece of the puzzle.”

Hannibal sighed. “I will wait in the car, and if you have not returned in fifteen minutes I will follow in after you. Understood?” 

“Fifteen minutes?” Will echoed.

Surprised, Will paused, staring through the dashboard at the rustic, decrepit looking mansion that was laid out in front of them. The clouds rolling behind it, were deep gray and heavy with rain. It thundered.

“Are you kidding?” Will scoffed. “It’s gonna take me fifteen minutes just to scale the gate. Unless you have the key, after all these long years,” Will said, sarcastically.

Hannibal huffed and Abigail wondered if she should weigh in. Will had a good point, Abigail was confident they could handle it but she didn’t want to feel rushed.

“You don’t need to babysit us,” Abigail said, softly “If you don’t want to come that’s fine, it’s better if someone keeps watch anyway. Just relax. If we need help, I’m sure you’ll sense that something is wrong,”

Hannibal smirked, making eye contact with Abigail through the rearview mirror. “You think you will be able to send me a sign, little one?” He asked, affectionately

“Or something,” Abigail said, shrugging

“Fine,” Hannibal said, huffing another sigh.

“Okay, let’s go Abigail,” Will said, ready for action. Will also wanted to leave before Hannibal changed his mind.

In the moment that Will stepped out of the car, Abigail leaned in and pecked Hannibal on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover him,” Abigail chuckled and ruffled Hannibal’s hair as she too, exited the car after Will. 

Hannibal stared at the pair as they walked away from the car. He was certain that it was not his kindness in life that brought him to these two people, angels treading on the ground, he thought. Whatever it was, gravity, fate, love, whatever force pulled the three of them together, Hannibal thanked the universe for it. 

As Will and Abigail approached the mansion they were thankful that their black outfits were lightweight. They were comfortable to jump the fence in, and Will and Abigail actually made it over without injuring each other.

Will and Abigail continued on, closer to the manor. They heard movement, and hid behind some bushes. There was a little hut off of the house, and they heard footsteps from the house, to the hut. They waited, and soon heard footsteps returning. They could see then, a young woman appear at the window. 

“What does she have…?” Will asked quietly, and then, Abigail heard, “Oh shit,” as Will ducked beneath the bushes again. “She’s got binoculars,” Will whispered to her.

From behind them, they heard the front door open. Footsteps began to get closer and closer. “Put your hands over your head. Stand up. No tricks, I will shoot,” A woman’s voice said.

Abigail and Will slowly stood up, their hands over their heads. When they turned they found a thin woman, holding a large shot gun. “What are you doing here?” She asked of them

“We are friends of Hannibal.” Will said, carefully. 

“How do I know you are not lying to me?” The woman asked, her eyes narrowing at the name. “Hannibal does not usually consider himself to have friends.” she argued. 

“We're in need of your help. He and the two of us were forced to flee the states. He said if we told you he had come to collect you, you would tend to whatever business you needed to, and would come with us.” Abigail explained. 

She turned to Abigail. “He does not lie?” she asked. 

“Hannibal is our family now too,” Abigail said in return

“Where is he?” she asked. 

“In the car,” Will said, nodding toward the gates of the Lecter estate.

“Of course…” the woman said quietly. “There are places on these grounds that he can never walk again.” she explained. She finally lowered her weapon, nodding as Will and Abigail lowered their arms. 

“Come with me,” she said “I'm Chiyoh. The business Hannibal refers to is my prisoner.” 

Will and Abigail exchanged a confused glance, until realization dawned for them who this prisoner must be. 

“Your prisoner…” Abigail repeated and Will gave her a warning glance. 

Chiyoh turned and walked toward the house. Will and Abigail followed but Will tightened his grip on the dagger burning in his waistband. 

She led them past the house to the shed behind. As she opened the door, the sound of whimpering escaped, starting soft and growing louder as they entered, finding an intense prison. Inside there was a dirty man with a long beard.

“This is my prisoner.” Chiyoh said simply. 

There was not much noise in the room, but Will also wouldn’t call it silence. He imagined Abigail found it utterly quiet in the cold dungeon of a room. 

Instead of a cool hush, however, Will could hear multiple droplets of water, plopping at particular pitches, echoing in the metallic room. He could hear the unsteady breathing and quiet whimpering of Chiyoh’s prisoner, as well as the brush of skin on fabric as Abigail fiddled nervously with the lining of her jacket pocket. 

“He must be punished. Hannibal himself charged me as keeper of this man. I do not want him to be disappointed with me.” Chiyoh said, softly. 

“He won't be angry. He wants you to come with us. Leave him to starve.” Abigail suggested, extending a hand to Chiyoh. “He will be impressed you have kept your post so dutifully.” 

Chiyoh looked at Abigail's hand. “Are you quite sure?” she said softly. “I know you aren't. We are talking about Hannibal after all.” Chiyoh whispered. 

Will cocked his head a little bit. He willed himself to step back, look at Chiyoh from Hannibal's eyes. Could he just want to kill her?

Hannibal had been unsure of his plan and Will had urged him. Another person to rely on, to change their identifiers made it even more likely they could survive for another day. But could Hannibal be luring Will into bringing her in, just as a toy for him to play with? No, he thought. He remembered Hannibal, vowing that there would be no more secrets. 

Abigail shook her head. “It's a pity…” she started. “But we just don't have time for this.” she said and Will narrowed his eyes. 

Before he could register what she was doing, Abigail has raised her gun and shot the scraggly man right between the eyes.

Chiyoh and Will stood in shock. “Hannibal will be quite proud,” she said, and Abigail could see she was visibly shaking. 

“We’ll tell Hannibal that you killed him. Family helps family. And you’re family now, too. Right?” Abigail said, taking hold of Chiyoh’s trembling hand. 

Chiyoh only looked to Will. 

“He won’t say anything. Right, Will?” Abigail asked.

“I don’t think Hannibal will be mad in the first place, but it’s Abigail’s secret to tell. I won’t interfere if that is how you two would like to handle this.” Will said, calmly. 

He was looking at all the empty wine bottles that littered the room. There were all sorts of hues of greens and browns, some clear, and some cloudy. Will eyed them with intensity that left him feeling apathetic about what the girls decided to tell Hannibal.

“It’s up to you,” Abigail said to Chiyoh.

“You two go on and meet Hannibal at the car. I’m going to give this disgusting insect a proper… memorial.” Will said, darkly, and Abigail eyed him only a moment longer, before heading back out into the sunlight.

“Do you really think we should tell Hannibal the truth?” Chiyoh asked, searching his eyes.

Will thought of a time when he would have shied away from such intense eye contact with a stranger. His distaste of eye contact was one of the traits Hannibal noticed earliest in Will. Yet somehow, knowing Hannibal seemed to connect them, and somehow, although Will had wanted to stay impartial, he heard himself saying, “Of course I do. Isn’t the only thing stopping you, fear?” 

The words sounded so much like Hannibal’s that Chiyoh recoiled. She opened her mouth to respond to Will, then, shut it. She handed Will the keys silently and turned to walk out after Abigail, never turning back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murder Family gets revenge.

Chiyoh directed as Hannibal drive through the Lithuanian countryside.

“Not much farther now,” Chiyoh said, as they drove over the border into Latvia. She directed Hannibal down a long winding, dark road and soon they were pulling into a deep set driveway with a little ranch style house at the end of it.

“Very good work, Chiyoh,” Hannibal said, impressed with the safe house she had set up.

As they walked in Hannibal admired the beautiful, fully functioning kitchen and the fully stocked fridge.

“This is awesome,” Abigail said. She moved to the counter and started opening cabinets. “There's so much here. It's kind of cute.” She said, smiling at Chiyoh.

“It's not awesome, or cute, it's a safe house.” Will said, his jaw hard set. He had his arms crossed as they settled into the small one story home. He was feeling skeptical as to what they would find here in this safe house, here on this new path with Chiyoh as a semi-permanent addition to the team.

“We will be safe here while we plan,” Chiyoh said. “I assume we will need a plan,” she continued.

“Very much so.” Hannibal said. “This cannot be done sloppily or we will risk putting ourselves in even more danger.” He continued.

“A plan and a miracle at this point.” Will said snarkily.

“Why so glum all of a sudden Will? This was your plan after all,” Hannibal asked, finally turning to Will.

“Not glum.” Will enunciated carefully. “Just focused.” He corrected.

.

“Will, Abigail, come look,” Hannibal said, “The murder husbands are making a return to the spotlight.” Hannibal called out to his family from the little sitting room of the safe house. Chiyoh had gone out for groceries and other supplies.

“Oh, god, not Freddie Lounds,” Will shook his head.

“Yes, Freddie Lounds, back from the dead,” Hannibal was grinning like the cheshire cat. “Murder husbands: Alive and Living in Luxury,” He scoffed, scrolling through the article, “She's one to talk. Has a certain ring to it, though, doesn’t it?”

Will rolled his eyes but Abigail chuckled. “Look at the subtitle. ‘Psychiatrists Bloom and Du Maurier disgraced with their shoddy detective work’ Bedelia must have been with Dr. Bloom somewhere outside the cafe,” Abigail suggested

“I wonder how they ended up working together,” Will mused. “They don't exactly seem to have the same take on psychology.”

“Two such fabulously intelligent women? It doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Hannibal countered, his grin never faltering.

“Of course you would anticipate their union. I'm sure you orchestrated it all along,” Will rolled his eyes. “This,” he said, pointing to Hannibal's laptop, “is not good. I don't know why you're smiling.”

Hannibal continued his grinning. “You can't guess?” he asked.

“I can,” Abigail said conspiratorially. “No mention of Jack Crawford.”

“We should toast.” Hannibal said. “No Jack means he either took himself off the case or he's been forcibly taken off.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Or they want us to think that and get sloppy.”

Abigail tilted her head as if she hadn't considered that.

“Obviously not, William. I never suggested sloppiness. Only exquisite chaos.” he said, his eyes alight.

“What’s the difference between the two with you?” Will asked and Hannibal scoffed.

Abigail stifled a smirk. “Burn.” she said picking up Bonnie and earning a steely glare from Hannibal. “Will has a point though, whenever you're enjoying yourself too much you tend to get a skooch sloppy,” Abigail said.

Hannibal sniffed. “I will forgive your rude statements. You two are capable of seeing these indulgences in my behavior and for that I am grateful.”

“We just can't mess this up. It's serious.” Will said.

“I understand. That's why there are no surprises this time, we are discussing each aspect together, here. The plan has to be executed seamlessly.” Hannibal said. “I will try not to indulge myself as much as I would like.”

“That would make me feel much more comfortable.” Will replied, almost sarcastically.

.

Later as they planned, Will tapped his foot obsessively.

“Why are we going back for revenge? It feels so risky,” Will complained. “Why not just hide out here?” he asked.

“I want a return to my previous lifestyle.” Hannibal said. “I don't get that without doing away with those who have seen me. Or at least making sure they will never come looking for me again.” He said.

“That means all of us now. Me, you, Abigail, Chiyoh.” Will said, “No pressure, right?” he smirked but Hannibal could tell he was nervous.

“Tell me your concerns, Will,” Hannibal suggested.

“What unsettles me is that it feels like it’s our friends we’re plotting to kill here,” Will argued, rubbing his temples.

Hannibal stiffened and waited for Will to make eye contact with him. “Jack Crawford must be your reckoning. You know that, don’t you William?” Hannibal leaned back where he sat in the living room of their safe house. Abigail and Chiyoh had gone to bed while Will and Hannibal stayed up planning, sipping a dark cabernet.

Will shook his head at Hannibal, “Am I speaking to the wall? That’s what I’m saying, him, Alana, your psychiatrist. Feels like they are our friends and we are plotting to kill them. That is what’s happening here. I’m just trying to come to terms with it,” Will bit out, stomping into the kitchen.

Hannibal recoiled like he had been hit. He followed Will into the kitchen standing face to face with him. “I do not know why you must be so brash about something you are so inexperienced with, William,” Hannibal said calmly. “Listen to me, very carefully.”

.

Hannibal slipped easily into the top window of Alana's home. The master bedroom was bathed in soft gentle light. Hannibal would recognize Bedelia’s beautiful blonde curls anywhere, but it almost surprised him to see her sitting prettily on the edge of Alana's bed. She was wearing a sleek black dress and held a small handgun.

“How nice to see you, Bedelia,” Hannibal said threateningly.

“Hannibal,” Bedelia said, his name sounding beautiful on her lips, “I had hoped never to see you again,” she sighed

“Well, we often do not receive the end we hope for.” Hannibal said, his eyes narrowed, focused. Bedelia was a quick girl but Hannibal was quicker. Even still it reminded him that he must be on his toes, he must pull out all the stops tonight. There was no room for error.

“How dull,” She said, slowly, but Hannibal could hear her heart rate from across the room.

They heard a shuffle downstairs.

“What was that?” Bedelia asked. “Your murder husband?” she grinned.

Hannibal smiled back “No. Probably Abigail.” he said and watched the color drain from her face.

Bedelia’s beautiful mouth hung open limply. “Abigail… Hobbs?” she asked.

“Do you know another Abigail?” Hannibal asked conversationally, hoping to distract her as he stepped slightly closer.

Bedelia raised the gun, unphased. “Don't. Move. An inch.” she warned.

Hannibal held up his open palms. “I have no weapon, Bedelia.” he said

“You _are_ a weapon, Hannibal.” Bedelia said, the gun unshaking, pointed at Hannibal.

.

Across town, Will and Chiyoh were breaking in Jack Crawford's home. Through the windows in the living room they could see his wife, Bella, hospital bed set up and all.

“What has he done to you?” Chiyoh asked as she and Will approached.

“Ran me ragged catching murderers while I had encephalitis. Let Hannibal frame me for his murders and didn't believe I hadn't done it. Then after all is said and done...he tried to get me to catch Hannibal.” Will said.

“Well I guess we can all see how well that turned out for him.” Chiyoh said.

Will smirked at Chiyoh in the moonlight “Well, we're about to, at least.”

As they entered the home through a ground level window, they found Bella, stirring gently in her hospital bed. Will took stock of Jack's body sleeping restlessly in the armchair next to Bella’s bed.

Bella stirred and blinked her eyes open, glancing around. She saw Will, a delicate finger pressed to his lips, shushing her, and Chiyoh, gun raised, pointed not at her, but at Jack.

Will walked slowly to her medicine table and readied a syringe to inject into her IV. She whimpered a little, trying to fight how scared she was. Will watched closely as her eyes drifted and her hand, outstretched towards Jack, fell limply to the bed.

Will waited until her breathing slowed altogether and then prepared another syringe, just the way Hannibal had taught him. Chiyoh shook Bella to make sure she wasn't faking and she shook, with the motion, totally relaxed.

Will readied himself with the other syringe and in one fluid motion, jabbed it into Jack's neck, injecting him with the drug.

Jack gasped awake “Bella?” and then, a look of horror and recognition. He slowly pulled the syringe from where Will had left it hanging from his neck. “Will Graham…” Jack said slowly.

“I had almost started to wonder when you would come for me… My greatest failure…” Jack muttered, beginning to breathe quite heavily.

“Hello, Jack,” Will said, darkly.

.

In a moment, the world slowed down for Hannibal. He was shocked to hear movement at the edge of the room. There was a gunshot, then another body, Alana’s crashed into his from the side, catching him off guard and knocking them both to the floor. Footsteps, pounding on the steps, and then Abigail swinging open the bedroom door, registering sideways for Hannibal as he laid on the floor.

Hannibal returned to his senses, quickly flipping Alana and himself over with the force of his body weight.

Hannibal wrapped his hands around her delicate neck, restricting her airway. Bedelia readied herself to shoot again, point blank at Hannibal’s, where he sat atop of Alana, but Abigail jumped on her back, skewing her shot, and sending the bullet up in the ceiling.

“How lovely to see you again, Dr. Bloom,” Hannibal muttered as she scratched at his arms. Abigail was choking Bedelia with her elbow held tight around the older woman’s neck.

Bedelia was trying to toss her off to no avail, Abigail only tightening her grip around her neck as Bedelia fell to the floor, the gun firing again, this time into the wall.

Alana scrambled as Hannibal choked the life out of her thin body. “Not much longer now, Alana,” Hannibal muttered.

As Bedelia began to grow weaker from Abigail’s choke hold, her grip on the gun loosened. “I’ll take that,” Abigail said nonchalantly, pulling the gun from Bedelia’s struggling fingers. Even as her eyes slid closed, she wondered how she was coming face to face with Abigail Hobbs again, almost a ghost in this big empty home.

Just as Abigail was checking to make sure Bedelia had properly passed out, she heard Hannibal curse and scramble about.

Alana was on her feet, gasping in air, and swinging a knife in Hannibal’s general direction and Hannibal’s arm was bleeding a little bit.

“You don’t want to do this Alana,” Hannibal warned. “We can do this one of two ways. You’re outnumbered,” He gestured to Abigail, standing over Bedelia’s limp body.

Abigail held the gun up. “Drop the knife, Dr. Bloom,” She threatened.

Alana froze, looking from Abigail to Hannibal. “Are you proud of what you’ve done?” Alana asked of Hannibal.

“Quite,” He replied, smiling at Abigail. “Now, where are Will’s dogs?” Hannibal asked.

“I let them go to the pound,” Alana said, spitting on the floor at Hannibal’s feet.

He tutted. “Alana, for your sake, I sincerely hope that is not true.” Hannibal threatened, stepping closer and closer to her.

“No sign of the dogs downstairs,” Abigail said to Hannibal.

“Where are they?” He asked again, stepping closer to Alana, his hand outstretched, asking for the knife she still held.

“I’ve been putting them up in a boarding facility. There’s no way you’re getting them out of there without me.” Alana said, shaking her head a little bit, still holding tight to the knife she held.

Hannibal tilted his head for a moment. “No matter.” in one swift motion, he knocked Alana’s feet out from under her and grabbed the knife from her hands.

.

Jack Crawford was becoming sedated but he also wasn’t giving up without a fight.

“Still couldn’t come for me like a man, though, I see. Where’s Hannibal?” Jack rose from his chair, pulling out a pocket knife and Chiyoh raised her gun again.

“Let me handle this,” Will said to her, putting a hand up in caution. “Hannibal is dealing with our other problems.” Will said to Jack, evasively.

“I see... The other, loose ends as you two would call them?” Jack asked, stumbling his way toward Will. “So you come into my home? Where my wife is sick? To kill me? Then do it.” Jack said

“It’s not that simple, Jack,” Will said. “I need something from you first.” He said, allowing Jack to get as close to him as he wanted.

“What could I possibly give you that Hannibal hasn’t?” Jack asked, lunging at Will and slashing his arm.

Chiyoh raised the gun again as Will hissed in pain. He leaned forward in one swift motion, punching Jack in the stomach and picking up the knife when it clattered to the floor.

“Did you know what you were doing to me?” Will asked, slowly. “Did you know what you were turning me into? Or was that some little happy accident that you blame entirely on Hannibal to help yourself fall asleep at night? Hmm?” Will asked.

Jack dropped to his knees in front of Will. “I didn’t think you could…” Jack muttered, getting sleepier and slower with every passing second.

“You didn’t think I was strong enough. Yeah, I know. But why didn’t you see? How couldn’t you see what I was becoming?” Will asked, darkly, kicking Jack to the floor.

“I did…” Jack admitted finally. “I saw what you were becoming, but I didn’t want to believe it,” he muttered, breathing heavily.

“Liar,” Will said, kicking Jack in the stomach again. “You had an easy time believing I was capable when Hannibal framed me. Why?” Will bit

Jack groaned in pain and regret. “I didn’t know…” Jack said.

“You didn’t know what?” Will asked

“I didn’t know you were in love with Hannibal…” Jack said between ragged breaths.

Will readied himself to kick Jack again, and then thought better of it. “Chiyoh, it’s time for us to go,” Will said. “I’m done here.”

“Yes, Will,” She said. Chiyoh pulled a canister of gasoline out from behind an end table where it had been hiding.

“Oh, no… no… not Bella.” Jack begged as Chiyoh began to splash gasoline throughout the living room and the other rooms of the house as Will stood over the Crawfords.

“This is what you deserve, Jack,” Will said, darkly. “You’re going to burn. You’ll burn the way you wanted to burn me.” He said. “At least Bella won’t be disappointed. She always thought she was going to go first, didn’t she? Now you two will go together. The way it was always meant to be.” Will suggested, feeling the beauty of the words as if Hannibal himself had uttered them.

“Ready?” Chiyoh asked, when the gasoline had been all poured out.

“Go outside.” Will said and Chiyoh left.

“No… please… anything you want Will, tell me what it is,” Jack begged, pulling himself toward Bella.

“All I want is to see you burn,” Will said, finally striking the match and dropping it. He walked from the house as the living room burst into flames, Jack shouting and begging for help.

.

A few things happened all at once as Hannibal kicked Alana’s feet out from under her. She hit the floor with a loud thud. In the same second, she scrambled, pulling a small handgun out from her waistband, shooting Hannibal in the leg and pointing the gun up to Abigail.

Hannibal yelled out and dropped to his knees on the floor. He pressed a hand to the bullet hole, trying to apply pressure and stop himself from bleeding out.

“How about you drop your weapon, Abigail?” Alana asked, breathing heavily. The gun was steadily pointed at her.

“What’s your play here Dr. Bloom?” Abigail asked, assertively. “As soon as Will’s done with Jack he’ll be back here looking for us anyway. How are you getting out of this, Alana?” Abigail asked, stepping closer to Alana.

“I said, drop your weapon, Abigail,” Alana warned, her hands beginning to shake. Abigail just continued to step closer.

“You can’t do it, because I’m a child,” Abigail chuckled, walking over to Alana, still cautiously, but with more confidence now. Hannibal had removed his vest and tied it around his calf as a bandage. He was watching intently, unsure of what this match-up would yield.

Abigail took one final step as Alana gasped, firing the gun, but a second too late. Abigail had shoved her hand up, sending the bullet through the wall above where Bedelia had passed out on the floor.

Abigail shook her head. “Hannibal warned you, Dr. Bloom,”

“No,” Alana begged, as Hannibal came and stood behind her, securing her hands and fully pulling the gun from her grasp. “No, no, please,” She said again.

Abigail then set down her gun. Alana’s knife still sat where it had clattered to the floor when she had shot Hannibal, and Abigail bent to pick it up.

Just as Hannibal had taught her, and her father before him, Abigail jabbed the knife deep into Alana’s belly.

“Abigail, no!” Alana gasped and cried out as Abigail dragged the knife across her stomach. Blood began to pour out on the floor and Alana gasped, sputtering. Abigail slid her knife gracefully back out of Alana’s stomach and Hannibal slowly released her. She crumpled to the floor at their feet, a large puddle of deep red blood beginning to pool around her.

“You could have avoided this numerous times over, Alana. You sealed your fate when you came looking for us in Paris.” Hannibal uttered eloquently.

As they descended the stairs, Hannibal limping, he and Abigail were met with the pleasant sight of Will and Chiyoh pulling up the driveway.

“Find out where my dogs are?” Will asked, leaning out the driver's side window.

“Is that really all you are concerned about when your husband has been shot?” Hannibal asked, getting stiffly into the car.

“Oh, come on, now, you’ve had worse,” Will said as they sped away from the scene, Will and Hannibal bloody and beaten in the front seat and Chiyoh and Abigail resting in the back.


	10. Chapter 10

“First thing's first, I need a pit stop to properly dress my wound from Alana’s gun. It should only be a moment.” Hannibal suggested. “Then we get Will’s dogs back.”

After a quick pit stop just as Hannibal had promised, they were back on the road, Hannibal looking chipper as ever. Will couldn't quite tell in the moonlight but he could swear Hannibal was smiling, his teeth glinting when other cars’ headlights passed them on the left.

Hannibal and Chiyoh waited in the car while Will and Abigail went into the boarding facility to rescue Will’s dogs.

The job was accomplished quite easily with some chloroform so that the night guard was simply knocked out and not killed. They wanted to keep their good karma flowing as much as possible.

“We are providing the reaction to their actions toward Abigail and toward Will.” Hannibal had stressed. “We are not doing this just to spite them. We are getting justice. No energy in the universe is created nor destroyed, only transformed.”

Will and Abigail had discussed it privately again and she had been flippant at best.

“I think we all see things in our own special ways. Everyone thinks of something different to fall asleep at night. You know?” Abigail had said, brimming with wisdom beyond her years.

Will did know.

Together, Abigail and Will smuggled five of Will’s strays and Winston into the car in two separate trips before Hannibal outright protested.

“We have to go, were going to get caught.” he whispered elegantly. “We have Winston, don't we? Now get in the car, I'm not asking Will.”

“Alright, alright, don't have to get snippy.” Will said. “Thank you everyone.” He said as they filed back in and Hannibal sped away from the scene. Will’s dogs jumped and leapt on his lap, kissing him and making it difficult for Hannibal to see out of the rear window. They whined and Will was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and then Hannibal was also laughing.

“Mission accomplished! Operation Get Will’s Dogs Back was a success!!” Abigail said, laughing with the rest of their little family.

They drove through the night to a safe house in Pennsylvania that Abigail and Chiyoh had picked out. The dogs were shy at first but followed Will around as if he was going to disappear again.

The little log cabin they had settled on was quite remote. They would be able to wait out the confusion, see how things played out and make a new life somewhere more exotic whenever the time was right.

Together, as a little family, they would wait out the storm that they had gathered together with only their bare hands.

.

Jack blinked his eyes a few times, coming to consciousness quite slowly. He registered the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping in the bright light that blinded him. For a moment he thought it could be Bella’s, he thought maybe he was in his living room, that he had fallen asleep in the arm chair and her heart monitor could be beeping along gently.

His vision began to clear and his other senses began to heighten again. He could feel an IV prick in his hand and he realized the heart monitor probably belonged to his own body.

Jack turned his head trying to see as much of the room as he could. He was in a flimsy hospital bed, in a single room. There was what seemed to be an armed guard outside his door. Alone.

The only thought that consumed Jack’s mind; Where was Bella?

His monitors beeped steadily but he was beginning to realize that he was restrained. He moved his head as much as possible, seeing bandages and remembering that his legs and arms were probably badly burned.

Will.

It began to come back to Jack in a flash of light. He pressed the button for the nurse as fast as he could, jamming his finger into the button over and over.

He could remember it then, remember Will talking to him, remember his accomplice dumping the gasoline.

Jack pressed the button for the nurse again and again until his hands shook. Someone finally appeared.

“Where's Bella?” he asked.

.

“Let's talk, Hannibal.” Will said, as they lay in bed together, the night they arrived in their little Pennsylvania cottage.

Hannibal had been staring dreamily into space, roused only by Will’s fingers on his arm.

“What about, my darling?” Hannibal asked lazily. Winston was the only dog granter permission into the bedroom. The other five muts were out sleeping tiredly by the fireplace.

“Let's talk about your home, Hannibal.” Will suggested, and Hannibal stiffened. “Why do we need to keep running from it?” he asked. “The man who took Mischa away from you is dead and has long since paid for his crimes. Will the house be perpetually haunted? Instead of being able to roam those halls telling me stories of Mischa?” Will asked, softly.

Hannibal had stopped taking air in and out of his lungs, frozen as Will spoke. He released a slow, steady breath and a tear ran down his cheek, dropping on Will’s shoulder. Winston picked his head up, looking at the two men curiously, ears perked at the ready.

“There are places on those grounds… The memories… They would be too vivid.” Hannibal said in fragments, his gaze shifting around uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t be able to stay.”

“What if we did it together? I would stay with you, I wouldn't leave your side.” Will said.

“I don't know that I'm strong enough.” Hannibal confessed, the tears continuing to fall, his voice quaking with the effort, imagining himself back where he began.

“Together we can be strong enough. Hannibal, please. Think about it.” Will whispered and leaned up to kiss Hannibal's damp eyelids.

“Thank you, Will.” He whispered as they nestled into their bed, Winston laying down protectively at the foot of the bed.

.

The next day, Will awoke and reached over onto the bed, searching for Hannibal's body. He came up only with sheets. Nothing. Where was his husband?

As he sat up, he could smell breakfast already cooking on the stove. The clock blinked lazily, telling Will it was not even 7am. It was entirely too early for breakfast.

Will stepped out of bed, clad only in his boxers. He stepped his feet into Hannibal's slippers and escaped out into the little cottage.

“What are you doing, Hannibal?” Will asked in a whisper, approaching the older man, cooking at the stove in his full buttoned matching pajama set. The dogs were still laying down in the living room, that was how early it was. Even the pups were feeling lazy.

“Why are you whispering, Will? Are we under siege?” Hannibal mocked, whispering back in a conspiratorial tone, without turning around.

Will rolled his eyes. “Come back to bed.”

“Maybe after breakfast, maybe not. We have much to do.” Hannibal said, finally turning to Will.  
His eyes roamed over Will, over his boxers, over his toned torso, a few lingering scars and gashes from their fighting. Hannibal seemed to forget what he had been saying.

“Don't you look _delicious_ this morning,” Hannibal muttered, coming closer to Will.

Will blushed. “What's gotten into you?” he asked, laughing off Hannibal's steamy gaze, but still feeling his cheeks get hot.

“Our plan has succeeded in every possible way, first off. Second,” Hannibal said, inching closer to Will and scooping him up in his arms bridal style.

Will gasped, entirely surprised. “Your leg!” he protested.

Hannibal ignored him and continued. “Second, my husband is my perfect partner who challenges me and engages me in such brilliant conversation and psychological debate.” Hannibal leaned his lips down and kissed Will, who was feeling thoroughly swept off his feet.

When they parted, Will shook his head, breathing heavy. “Would you tell me why you're so happy before you burn breakfast?” he said, trying to get oxygen back to his brain.

Hannibal set him down and turned off the stove. He brought Will over his laptop and showed him Freddie Lounds’ newest tattle crime article.

_Murder Husbands resurrect long lost daughter?_

Will snorted. “Talk about low hanging fruit.” Will quipped and looked expectantly at Hannibal for him to summarize the article.

“Bella Crawford is dead. Jack is in critical condition. Bedelia only has a mild concussion, and best of all... Alana is in a coma.” Hannibal said, his smile bright, teeth glinting in the early morning sunlight.

“Wow…” Will looked morose for a moment. Hannibal worried he had upset him. “So it actually worked…” Will muttered next and offered Hannibal a shaky smile.

“That it did, my dear.”

“So how are we going to celebrate?” Will asked.

Hannibal scooped Will up, and carried him off to the bedroom.

.

Abigail started her morning by taking the dogs out around the property for a quick walk. She jogged around, trying to get a little workout in. When she began to work up a sweat she called for the dogs to come back inside with her.

After a quick shower, Abigail came out to the kitchen in the late morning and found eggs, dried up and forgotten on the stove. Her eyebrows furrowed as she scraped them into the garbage, a little confused.

The house Hannibal ran was not one where food is often wasted and definitely not forgotten.

She looked around the kitchen. Chiyoh had gone out shopping early in the day before anyone had woken up, and had come back with a large stock of groceries.

Opening the fridge, she found fresh fruit, fresh citrus alongside the dinner items, fresh veggies and meat. She plucked blueberries and a lemon from the well stocked fridge and set about making scones.

Chiyoh soon came in, showing Abigail the page on Hannibal's laptop. “Look,” She said, smiling.

“We did good, didn't we?” Abigail smiled as she worked the dough onto the pan and popped it in the oven.

The girls drank tea together and put a pot of coffee on for Will and Hannibal. They basked in the glory of committing a crime and being safely nestled away, a feeling not often awarded so soon after.

The scones were cooling pleasantly on the kitchen island by the time Will and Hannibal stumbled back out of the master bedroom.

They both looked freshly showered, but drowsy. Hannibal approached the island, leaning on it and taking a scone, tasting it elegantly, while Will approached the coffee pot first, gathering two mugs and bringing one to Hannibal.

“Lovely scones, thank you Abigail.” Hannibal said and kissed Will on the cheek for the mug of coffee he brought him. “Did you girls see the article?”

“Yes,” Abigail said excitedly, while Chiyoh nodded.

“I think we have accomplished what we set out to do.” Hannibal said. “Will thinks we should return to the castle. To Lithuania.” He said, easily over scones and coffee.

Abigail and Chiyoh looked surprised. Will just looked tired.

“When?” Chiyoh asked.

Hannibal smiled at his newfound family. He had never thought this was possible. Bringing people along with him as he tread through the great unknown of life, had never been an option.

“Let's enjoy the rest of this unfolding, no? A few more days here and then we can arrange to make the journey?” Hannibal could sense there was more on the horizon.

.

Bedelia sat in Alana’s hospital room, staring at the deep gashes on her stomach.

It could've been me. Bedelia thought to herself, couldn't stop herself from thinking.

A nurse came in and nudged Bedelia. “He’s awake.” They said. She follows them out of the room without making a sound. Her stiletto heels barely touch the ground as Bedelia walks. She is aware of every breath everyone around her takes, she is on edge and always vigilant, always watching.

Her black dress hugged her curves and accented her blonde curls where they peeked out under her black hat.

She stepped carefully into Jack Crawford's room, aware immediately of his breathing and the various monitors attached.

Bedelia approached the bed carefully, keeping a tender distance. Jack had been badly burned in the fire and his arms and legs were bandaged heavily.

“Good evening, Jack.” Bedelia said smoothly.

“Hello, Bedelia.” Jack replied.

“I'm sorry to hear about your wife, Jack.” Bedelia said, stoically.

Jack nodded. “She didn't deserve that. I did.” He muttered. “Thank you.” He said, remembering himself.

“I didn't expect you to want to see me. Might I ask what's on your mind tonight, Jack?” Bedelia questioned immediately.

Jack looked up, meeting Bedelia’s gaze. “Revenge,” he said

“You know as well as I do how hard he is to catch.” Bedelia said dismissively. “Impossible, one might say.”

“Maybe we don't need to catch him.” Jack said darkly. “We just need to wound him.”

“Well you can count me out.” Bedelia said, rising and moving to exit the room.

By the door she paused. “I'm happy I'm still breathing. And I for one would like to continue to breathe. You need to think about what you would like, Agent Crawford.” Bedelia warned, and then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

.

They cooked simple meals for the entirety of their time within the cottage, reluctant to draw attention to their grocery list. Chiyoh was in charge of going out for supplies now that the world knew Abigail was alive.

Hannibal and Will stayed in and cooked, cleaned, read, played music, and endlessly spent their time with Abigail.

“What shall we cook tonight Hanni?” Abigail asked.

“Fish, I think. Does that sound nice?” He asked

Abigail nodded. “Then will you read to us, Will?” Abigail asked.

Will nodded, smiling at his family. “Of course.”

And so they lived for the week or so it took to get relevant news out of Tattle Crime again.

“Will, look here.” Hannibal said one evening. It had been seven days since they had attacked their old lives in Baltimore.

_Bloom wakes, vows revenge for Murder Husbands_

“Hmm.” Will thought for a moment. “She can't get revenge if she can't find us.”

“Yes. But even if she were to come here seeking revenge, she wouldn't get what she was after.” Hannibal said darkly. “I say let her come.”

Will rolled his eyes “Don't be too proud to see a win for what it is, my dear husband.” Will warned and left Hannibal to think by himself a while.

.

Two days later they were on a boat to Lithuania.

“Shall you always be my better half, Will?” Hannibal asked. “I would have stayed and baited them, faced them again. For what? The glory of it?”

Will smirked at Hannibal. “I'm glad this meant more to you.” He covered his hand with his own, and they smiled at each other.

In a few short days they would be in Lithuania, at the castle. Hannibal dreaded thinking about returning but agreed that it was probably for the best. There was nothing tying him to that place anymore.

Plus the labyrinth of the house would be decadent for hiding if ever there truly was trouble, Hannibal couldn't help thinking. Even Will had mentioned the reclusivity of the home. No way to sneak up on someone who lives in the middle of nowhere. You can see people approaching from miles off on a clear night.

So there they went as Alana retraced her steps, tried to figure out how wrong she could have been, how things could have gotten so out of hand.

Will, Hannibal, Abigail and Chiyoh arrived in Lithuania and made themselves comfortable as best they could in the big spooky house. Hannibal refused to enter his old bedroom, insisting they sleep in one of the many guest bedrooms.

“So…” Will said, admiring the way Hannibal looked in the candle light. He was still tense from being back at the castle, but he was trying his best to act normal.

He looked at Will. “So?” he asked back

“So what now?” Will asked.

“Now, we keep our heads down. No dinner parties, no hunting of any kind.” Hannibal looked off, out the window. Will was quite sure he was seeing into a different time.

“I'm sure we'll be good at laying low. We have incredible self control.” Will said, hoping to get at least a little amusement out of Hannibal.

With sad eyes, Hannibal looked up at Will. “Do you think the feeling will dwindle?” he asked. “this tightness in my chest?”

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “I'm sure it will get better Hannibal. Why don't you tell me something about her?” he asked.

Hannibal stared off again. “She loved when I played piano for her. I was so clumsy at that age, and still she would beg me to play.” He muttered, without meeting Will’s eyes.

“Maybe she can hear you. I think she can. Especially here. You have to play for me tomorrow. For Mischa. I'm sure there's a piano here.” Will said, rubbing Hannibal's shoulder endearingly.

“I'd like that,” he said in reply. Hannibal got up, yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I'm going to get ready. Not that I'm sure I'll be able to sleep.”

Will glanced up at Hannibal as he undressed for bed, pulling out perfectly pressed pajamas. “I'm proud of you, you know.” Will said.

Hannibal looked up with soft eyes.

“I can only imagine how hard this must be for you.” Will said, letting it linger in the air.

Hannibal came to stand with Will, cradling Will’s head against his chest. Will rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Before you, it was unbearable. Now, it is bearable.” Hannibal whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murder family tries to stay under the radar.

For weeks on end they stayed in the castle, Will and Hannibal passing the days at the piano while Chiyoh and Abigail often worked outside. They tended to the chickens, as well as keeping watch and making sure there were no signs of surveillance around the property.

“Mischa would love to hear you play now, Hannibal.” Will said to him when they sat at the piano together.

Will asked him to play so often it began to mesmerize Will. The way Hannibal's fingers could manipulate the keys was unlike any other skill he had seen Hannibal execute. That was including Hannibal's cooking.

Day by day Hannibal went through all the music in the house. Will would pick something for Hannibal to play, he would work out the piece at the piano until he could play it flawlessly and the cycle would begin again. Often Hannibal would present Will with a choice of two large bundles of sheet music and Will would barely glance up, picking on instinct alone.

Hannibal adored letting Will pick what he played and he adored playing for him in the big empty house. The gentle way Will would ask about Mischa left Hannibal feeling bittersweet but without the intense melancholy that usually followed thinking about her.

The piano and the music surely helped, and it helped to imagine she was in the room with them, listening to him play classical pieces for Will.

“Teach me to play,” Will said, one afternoon.

Hannibal looked at him with laughter in his eyes, “You are not serious, Will,” he protested.

“Why wouldn't I be? You are a fabulous teacher. Come on, teach me something.” Will demanded then, and Hannibal smirked at his impatience.

“Very well. You know I would give you whatever you heart desires.” Hannibal said, side eyeing Will.

“Yes, so I've heard.” Will said, smiling a conspiratorial smile, and coming to sit next to Hannibal on the piano bench.

.

Abigail and Chiyoh spent hours toiling in the garden so they would be able to cut down on the amount of groceries they bought.

The more they could survive on their own the better. The less they relied on grocery trips, trips into the main town, the longer they could stay under the radar.

There was an evening where Chiyoh and Abigail came home breathless, discussing whether or not someone at the market could have been looking at Abigail funny.

Abigail had been wearing her black wig and heavy makeup but she still had to cover her scar and her missing ear, a dead give away.

It was barely an interaction in retrospect, the man turning around to look at Abigail, but Hannibal trusted Abigail's gut. If she felt recognised, she had probably been recognised. Which was dangerous.

“I hate to suggest to you the same confinement Will and I are undergoing right now, Abigail…” Hannibal started, that evening as they discussed the encounter.

“But I agree I think it's probably for the best.” Will butted in, finishing Hannibal's sentence.

“I know,” Abigail said, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry you have to do so much for us Chiyoh.” She said.

“We’re family,” Chiyoh smiled. “It is my pleasure, Abigail,”

.

A couple weeks followed quite normally. They kept to their routine, keeping their heads down and trying their best to stay unnoticed.

“Will, you’re not going to believe this,” Hannibal called into the castle they had begun to call home. “Will?” Hannibal found him in their bedroom.

Will sat at his desk wearing headphones. Hannibal approached and tapped him on the shoulder, and Will jumped as if he was being mugged.

“Jesus Hannibal, you scared me,” Will said, annoyed. “What is it?” he asked

“New story on _Tattle Crime_. Dr. Bloom has a lead,” Hannibal bobbed his eyebrows.

Will rolled his eyes. “That’s not good news,” he commented

“I didn’t say it was going to be good news,” Hannibal said, his eyebrows knitting together. Why couldn’t Will be as excited about this as he was?

Will crossed his arms over his chest and Hannibal wished he had kept his mouth shut. Before Will could slam him for being so misleading, Hannibal held a hand up.

“Either way, I think it may be bait. We haven’t been eating the same things, I’ve switched up all of my usual decadences...what’s life if you can’t have the things you like?” Hannibal said, his eyes wild.

“Is that what this is about? You want to…” Will cleared his throat “Hunt?”

“No, not at all,” Hannibal said, his eyes immediately narrowing again. “I want to be able to drink my favourite champagne again. I want to be finished, with Alana, with Jack. If she has a lead, let her come here. If she's bluffing us, which I'm almost positive she is, it would be unwise to move again. It's going to be dangerous at any borders for us now. This castle is a perfectly large armory and home base for us.”

“Not if she comes with enough police in tow,” Will said slowly

“Bah, they don't believe her anymore. We are wanted criminals but I am a master of slipping into the crowd. There are no more clues to follow.” Hannibal suggested. “The FBI is tired of hearing our names.” He said, grinning

“You’d better hope so,” Will said, shaking his head. “You really think she’s just baiting?”

“Freddie Lounds in bed with Alana Bloom? Sounds about right to me. Sounds like Alana’s getting desperate.” Hannibal explained, trying to soothe Will with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you trust my gut, Will?”

“Yeah, I trust your gut,” Will agreed. “About as far as I can throw it,” He said, winking at Hannibal.

.

Alana Bloom sat in a wheelchair at Jack’s bedside.

“I agree that we need to make some move of counter attack, but I don’t see any way to catch them off guard at this point. There are three masterminds working together.” Alana suggested. “I’m worried Hannibal is too smart to be fooled by this _we have a lead_ facade.”

Jack nodded. “I really do have a lead though.” he smiled, then, a humorless grin. “There are ties from his medical school days. Letters to some estranged family member. I may even have a location.” he boasted. “A few more weeks, when we’re up and walking around? I’ll be ready,” Jack said.

Alana looked unconvinced. “A location? Jack, we need a whole army. If we go in by ourselves we’ll never come out alive.” She argued.

“That's where you're wrong Alana. I think we can outsmart him. We just need to separate Will from Hannibal and we would have a fighting chance.” Jack mused, itching at a bandage absently.

Alana snorted. “I had Hannibal and Abigail without Will and look at me. I don't know that there's going to be any up and walking around in a few weeks.”

“You're strong Alana, and so young. You'll recover.” Jack said looking wistful.

“But the point is, I can't fight. What use are we against them now? Two limping idiots trying to catch a spider.” Alana mused “All we would do is fall right into Hannibal's web.”

“You sound like Bedelia,” Jack said, beginning to get frustrated. “We can't give up now.”

“He's won, Jack.” Alana said. “Give me one good reason he wouldn't pummel us into the ground?” she asked, looking at Jack with curious eyes.

“What if I had information about his sister?” Jack asked, looking shifty.

“Sister?” Alana echoed, looking surprised.

“He talks about her in those letters I mentioned before. What do you think Hannibal would do for a photograph?” Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Alana sat in silence for a moment. “A real photograph?” she asked.

Jack nodded solemnly. “It's not a great photo, but it's a photo.”

Alana fiddled with the edge of her hospital gown. “I'll need some time to think it over. I was nervous about this ridiculous ploy to try to get them to expose themselves, and now you're telling me there's more? I'm very moved by Bedelia, removing herself from the situation so completely.”

“Bedelia is a coward. Cowards let monsters loose, keep letting them run loose. I want to stop that monster.” Jack said

Alana began to wheel herself out. “The time for mixed metaphors and beautiful imagery has passed, Jack.” she hesitated at the door and Jack imagined Bedelia in the same position, days before. “I'll think it over.”

Jack nodded. “That's all I'm asking.”

.

“Someone is approaching, everyone get to their spots.” Chiyoh said, coming into the little sitting room where Hannibal, Will and Abigail were gathered. She had binoculars in one hand and was holding her shotgun with the other.

Will and Abigail went straight upstairs to the room where they were all instructed to stay while Chiyoh deflected any visitors or other sparse people who approach the mansion.

Hannibal and Chiyoh hovered a moment in the doorway. “Is it the man from the market?” He asked of her calmly. She nodded once, curtly.

“Do what you must.” Hannibal said, eyes severe.

She nodded again and he entered the room and shut the door behind him. Chiyoh locked the door from the outside with a key that she tucked into her pocket and retreated to the front door. With a quick peek out the window she could see that the man was only halfway to the house. He was on foot and it was quite a long way from the gate to the mansion.

Making her way into the kitchen, Chiyoh focused on her plan. The room was expansive. To the right there were stoves, ovens, and beautiful marble countertops. There was a large marble countertop island in the middle of the kitchen, and on the left, a large stainless steel fridge, more cabinets and a pantry.

Chiyoh opened a cabinet to the right of the fridge and stowed her shotgun. She filled a teapot with water and put it on the stove.

The man knocked on the door. She approached the front door slowly, looking through the eyehole before making any moves. Through the eyehole she saw the same squirrely looking man from the market. Abigail had been sure she had been recognized, but this man didn’t seem like the type to show up snooping for wanted murderers alone.

“Do I know you?” Chiyoh called through the door.

“Uh, no, I have something you dropped in the market and I wanted to return it.” the man called through the door.

“What is it?” Chiyoh asked

“A grocery list but there’s a poem on the back,” He replied. “There was a girl with black hair who dropped it. She looked so familiar.” the man elaborated. “The shopkeeper said he was pretty sure you two lived in The Castle so I came to see if it was true.”

“Very well,” Chiyoh said, swinging the door open. “She is not here, but I will give it to her. Thank you,” She said, trying to shut out the man.

“Could I wait til she gets back? I wanted to ask her out for coffee or something. The poem is really beautiful.” He said, looking shifty. “Or maybe I can come back?” He asked

Chiyoh looked around. She stepped out onto the porch with the man, feigning like she was looking out into the distance for her. From this closer angle she could get a better look at the man, try to see whether or not she could see the outline of a weapon on his person. From closer up he seemed even weaker than through the peephole in the door.

“She should be back soon if you want to wait,” Chiyoh shrugged. Just then, the teapot whistled, the sound carrying through the open door.

“I’d love to come in and wait if it’s not too much trouble,” He said, looking around happily.

“Come, have some tea with me,” She said, leading him back through the doorway into the mansion. They landed in the kitchen and Chiyoh poured two mugs, plopping teabags down in each and handing the other to the man.

“Do you have a name?” Chiyoh asked, eyes wide and curious.

“Lukas.” He said, “Sorry, I’m so rude I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Lukas.”

“Hello Lukas,” Chiyoh said and dipped her tea bag in and out of her mug, absently. “I’m Rami, and my companion with the black hair is Svajone.” She introduced in return, with fake names that probably wouldn’t end up mattering much. Chiyoh’s mind was already made up.

“Sugar in your tea?” She asked as she prepared his cup.

He nodded. “Two scoops please.”

“What do you do in town, Lukas?” Chiyoh asked as she slipped a sleeping aid into his drink.

“I work in a book shop. Nothing too exciting. It’s very quiet work.” He said, softly.

Chiyoh nodded and brought him his drugged tea.

A little while later the man named Lukas was beginning to get quite sleepy. The more time he spent in the beautiful castle, the more his nerves began to itch.

“When did you say she would be back?” he asked.

“Soon, I think.” Chiyoh replied.

The man openly wavered at the table. “I'm not feeling quite well anymore.” he said slowly.

“Who do you live with, Lukas?” Chiyoh asked as he shifted in the seat.

“Just me this week…” he said his eyes drooping dramatically. “Dad's out of town…”

“Anyone else to miss you?” Chiyoh asked calmly.

The man’s eyes opened wide and he gasped. “What's going to happen?” he asked, apparently realising his situation, and promptly keeled over.

Chiyoh shivered in the eery sudden quiet of the kitchen and went upstairs to get the rest of the family.

“Well done Chiyoh,” Hannibal smiled as he took the man's pulse. “I'm quite proud of you.” he said honestly. “Now we have the option of drugging him to wipe his memory and dumping him instead of killing him.”

“How will we be sure his memory is wiped _enough_?” Will asked. “I don't know what would be more dangerous, attracting attention with him disappearing or letting him back out into the world after being here.” he argued

“Will makes a good point. He might remember he planned to come here. Then what would our story be?” Abigail contributed.

“We could say he was looking under the weather and asked us to bring him home. It could work.” Hannibal suggested, shrugging.

“I still think it's safer to kill him.” Will said, shaking his head. “I want to preserve our life here.” he said, glancing at the fireplace where Bonnie, Winston, and the rest of the pups lay.

Chiyoh nodded.

“I agree, but I wanted to exhaust all possible options before we proceed with a course of action.” Hannibal nodded and leaning back in his chair. Relaxing, he smiled.

Will eyed him. “You look awfully happy,” he said, noticing the clean laugh lines around his eyes as he smiled at Chiyoh.

“Chiyoh has protected us fabulously tonight. We should celebrate.” Hannibal bobbed his eyebrows. “Dinner anyone?”

.

“How would Hannibal know the photograph is real, Jack?” Alana asked the second time they met to speak of their plans.

“He wouldn’t, but I think he’d be willing to wager.” Jack suggested. He was the one visiting, limping in on a walker and settling, uncomfortably in a visitor’s chair. This time, Alana sat in bed as she rested, looking bored while Jack talked. “The letters say she had a pretty rough time before she died. I think Hannibal would be willing to go to any length for just the possibility of a photo.”

Alana shook her head. “He has Will now. Not to mention Abigail. What makes you think he’s still hung up on his sister? Hannibal is smart above all else. I don’t think he would risk his safety just for a photo.”

“He won’t see it as risking his safety. He’s smart, but he’s also proud. He caught us off guard last time, but this time we’ll be ready.” Jack said. “He won’t expect us to be operating outside the law,”

Alana sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Jack. It seems… tasteless to taunt him with a photo of Mischa.”

Jack scoffed. “Getting sympathetic, Dr. Bloom?” He asked.

Alana laughed. “Not sympathetic. I’m just not sure I want to be fighting Hannibal when he’s fighting with his sister in mind.”

“You’re scared, then,” Jack said, definitively. “Will drugged me last time before I was even awake or I would have had more fight in me. That cost me Bella, the one thing in my life that mattered anymore.” he said, pausing to shake his head a little bit. “I’ll be ready for a rematch and I hope Hannibal and Will both bring their A game, but I need you there with me.”

Alana all but rolled her eyes. “And what good would I be?” She asked, gesturing to her stomach, which was still bandaged. “I’m still recovering too, from being sliced by a teenager.”

“Yes,” Jack said, “But you know the three of them better than anyone else does. That’s what makes you invaluable, Dr. Bloom.”

.

Hannibal set a fabulous arrangement of courses for the little family on the night the man named Lukas came to them.

Chiyoh went out and picked some fresh vegetables for a salad. Abigail went off to set the table, adding a lavender candle adorned with a few sprigs of rosemary, as a centerpiece.

Will helped Hannibal prepare the meat, packing the extras away in fridge and freezer bags. The happy little murder family continued on their way, trying to stay under the radar and enjoying the feeling of having done away with Lukas, the only one who had recognized Abigail.

“We have protected our wellbeing a little while longer.” Hannibal said as they sat around the table, sharing wine and conversation until the early hours of the morning.

“We need a plan for the eventuality of being found.” Will said softly, when Abigail and Chiyoh had bid them goodnight.

“Why must you say eventuality?” Hannibal questioned “Why can't it be, _if_ we are found, hm?”

Will sighed, doubtful. “Because that's the kind of thinking that _will_ get us caught.”

Hannibal smiled softly. “The teacher becomes the pupil, then? What have you got brewing in that beautiful brain of yours, Will?”

“I think I’ve finally found it…” Will said, shadows flickering menacingly on his face in the evening darkness. “I’ve found my design.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love and comments on this story!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

Alana walked through the big echoing house barefoot. She had abandoned her high heels at the front door. Her feet were beginning to get cold on the old stone floors and her arms were beginning to ache from holding her gun up at the ready. She could hear Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring twinkling through the candle lit castle from a Grand piano. She could picture Hannibal, fingers flowing over the keys.

She followed the music, the dissonant notes coming more frequently, in varied tempos and syncopations. The sound of the piano got louder and louder as she stepped down the hallway, glancing into the open doorways, knowing the music was still coming from farther down the hall.

If she only followed the music she would find Hannibal, perhaps unsuspecting, playing piano, in the quiet reverence of the castle. The music reached a crescendo and suddenly ceased altogether. Alana froze in the hallway, gun poised at the ready.

The notes began again, softly and continued to get louder again in their crescendo of dissonant sounds. Stravinsky’s piece was a very moving, emotional score. Alana was almost at the end of the hallway, approaching the final door, the room where the music was coming from.

Finally, she would be face to face with Hannibal again after he and Abigail had left her broken and bleeding on the floor.

Alana took a deep breath and creeped in through the doorway, the piano music resonating through the air, vibrating the entire room. As she entered she saw the scene all at once, the windows, glassy and shiny black in the moonlight, the grand piano and the shadowy figure, seated, playing the elegant melodies.

“Good evening, Dr. Bloom.”

.

_2 hours earlier_

“Someone's coming.” Chiyoh called to the rest of the team. She was at the front of the house looking out the large front windows with a small pair of binoculars. Will was the closest to Chiyoh and the first one to also get a good look at their newest intruder.

“Hannibal, this isn’t good,” Will said, all in a rush.

“What could possibly be so bad, Will?” Hannibal asked as he approached the window, holding his hand out for the set of binoculars that Will now held.

“It’s Jack,” Will snapped, handing the binoculars over to Hannibal roughly, earning himself a steely look from the older man.

Abigail cursed and came bolting down the stairs. “What are we gonna do?” She asked

“Don’t you worry, pretty girl,” Hannibal said calmly. “Will and I have a plan.”

The closer Jack approached the more antsy Will and Abigail became. Hannibal and Chiyoh displayed impeccable calm, as Jack approached, bent down, and then suddenly turned on his heel and headed back the way he came.

“What’s he doing?” Abigail asked

“Not sure…” Will trailed off.

“He’s left us something,” Hannibal said, slowly. “A present,” His eyes were looking faraway.

“This isn’t part of the plan,” Will protested.

“So? Maybe the plan gets derailed a little. Life is so changeable, kind Will.” Hannibal said slowly, turning to smile at his family. “What do they say? Man plans and God laughs,”

Will rolled his eyes. “This is life or death, we don’t have time for mixing metaphors.” Will said gesturing to the front door. “Jack could have planted a bomb for all we know and we’re just standing here.”

Hannibal smirked, eyeing the way Will crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. “Patience, darling,”

In a flash, Hannibal was out the door and gliding across the lawn as if he was bullet proof. Yet still it didn’t matter, because no one was shooting at him.

He retrieved a large manilla envelope and was back within the doors of the castle before Will had even properly freaked out.

“That was dangerous and stupid and not part of the plan,” He snapped at Hannibal the moment the door was shut behind him

Hannibal chuckled. “Relax, Will,”

Will huffed, but Abigail and Chiyoh hovered with anticipation in their eyes. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, do you hear me?” Will seethed and Hannibal cocked his eyebrow at his charming young partner.

“What is it, Hannibal?” Abigail asked, her curiosity finally winning out in her brain.

“If your father could stop scolding me I could open the envelope.” The aside was meant for Abigail, but Hannibal caught Will's eye and winked. Will seemed to deflate a little, the curiosity finally seeping back into his bones.

Hannibal's nimble fingers pulled the paper from the envelope by the edges. The thick photo paper was blank, so he flipped it over and held it up to the light. Behind the photo there was a letter. Hannibal's eyes skimmed the words and his jaw clenched.

“Is it a photograph?” Will asked, inching closer. His body posture was still annoyed, his arms crossed over his chest but they were beginning to loosen as he leaned toward his partner.

“It's... the threat of one.” Hannibal said softly. His eyes slipped closed and Will's eyes snapped to the way his husband's whole face tensed. Hannibal let the letter drop to the floor and Will stepped forward, picking it up.

“Oh, Hannibal…” Will started, adjusting his glasses.

“They think me quite foolish.” Hannibal said slowly, his hands balling in and out of fists at his side.

“What do you mean it's a threat?” Abigail asked.

Chiyoh looked solemn, putting the pieces together faster than Abigail. “Hannibal… I'm sorry.” Chiyoh said slowly.

“They are offering something I know does not exist.” His eyes fixed on Abigail and she squirmed under his intense gaze. “Abigail, I hope you are ready to operate for the next little bit with the memory of my sister, Mischa, in our minds. They will be paying sorely for bringing her sacred name into this game of cat and mouse.” Hannibal said sternly.

Abigail nodded numbly, still processing but trusting her fathers implicitly.

“Very good. Now. Here's the plan.”

.

Alana Bloom’s flight had been to a slightly different location than Jack's. She rode into town on a train. It gave her too much time to think, in her own professional opinion. She had far too much time to wonder if their plan would work, to muse about what might happen if it didn't.

An active imagination was hardly necessary for Alana to be sure what was to come for her if Hannibal was left to his own devices. As she watched the world fly by through the train window, she wondered what she would find at Lecter castle.

Jack had traveled the day before so he was well rested and pleasant by the time Alana arrived. He met her at the train station with a large hat and sunglasses on.

“Are you impersonating a famous movie star?” Alana asked tongue in cheek.

Jack smirked. “Got your sense of humor back, is that right, Dr. Bloom?”

“It never stays away for long,”

The pair got settled in Jack's lodging arrangements, Alana’s eyes darting back and forth between the door and the window. Jack raised his eyebrows at her over his tea.

“What?” Jack asked

Alana gestured to Jack's calm facade. “How can you sit there and sip tea when were about to challenge Hannibal?”

Jack gave a melancholy chuckle. “You see, Dr. Bloom, I have nothing left to lose which means Hannibal has nothing left to take from me.”

Alana fiddled with her skirt hem. “I'm sorry, Jack. I'm just itching for action.”

“Well, Bloom, if it's action you want, then I would wager that you're in luck.”

A short time later, Alana and Jack approached Lecter castle on a mostly silent motorbike. Alana rode behind Jack, holding on tight and wondering if he could feel her heart beating out of her chest.

The type of snowing that Hannibal had pulled over on Alana still made her stomach churn. She had been an unwitting accomplice to a crime by providing Hannibal with an alibi, deluded into thinking Will was capable of murders he didn't commit, and to top it all off she had been seduced by a serial criminal.

“Doctor Bloom,” Jack's voice was suddenly loud in her ear. The bike had stopped. “We're here,”

Alana watched impatiently from a side view of Lecter castle as Jack walked up with the envelope. While the letter was at its heart, an invitation to turn over their persons for a photograph of Mischa, it served a double purpose. Alana was to stand watch and take careful note of everything she could see about the house and the movement within from her vantage point.

Alana and Jack reconvened at the motorbike, awaiting a call on their burner phone. They had given the number on the letter Hannibal opened.

“This is it. It all hinges on this key burst of arrogance.” Alana muttered. “Surely he knows we don't have a picture. But if he jumps on this opportunity to trap us, to try again to hurt us… maybe we can have the upper hand. It'd be just like Hannibal to underestimate us. Yet still, I don't know for sure if he'll do it.”

Jack waved his hand dismissively. He stared off into the sunset for a moment. He thought of Bella, almost thought he saw her for a moment, a figure among the fog.

“Try to act interested.” Alana said slowly, eyes narrowing at Jack.

“I just don't have that much at stake anymore. Fighting for revenge isn't quite as sweet as fighting for justice.” Jack said scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Alana opened her mouth to respond but the phone ringing interrupted. She eyed Jack nervously for his reaction as he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“I will need verification that your offer is genuine.” Hannibal's chipper voice, measured and clear came through the speaker.

“Absolutely.” Jack replied easily.

“Clearly you know where we are. Come with your information whenever you have it.” Hannibal challenged slightly.

“I'll be an hour or so.” Jack said leaving the sentence hanging.

“I won't embarrass us both by asking you to come alone. We shall all see what happens as the night unfolds. Shall we?” Hannibal asked conversationally again.

“That we shall, Dr. Lecter, that we shall.”

“Goodbye, Jack. See you soon.”

.

Jack knocked on the door of Lecter castle. Alana was under instructions to stay away until his updates stopped coming through.

He had been unwilling to wear a wire and considered the possibilities in which he would be able to alert Alana as to his well-being. They had decidedly settled on one phone call. Jack would claim to have to check in with his superior at the bureau as things progressed.

If Jack answered with “Yes sir, I'm good. You have a good night, now.” then Alana was to wait before coming in. But if he answered with “Yes sir, I'm good. Thanks for checking in,” she was to come in and assist as soon as possible.

Abigail answered the door, easy as if she had never disappeared in the first place. Her smile was as Jack remembered it; nervous and genuine and slightly unsettling.

For half a minute Jack forgot to breathe. Abigail stepped aside from the open door and waited for Jack to enter.

“Hello, Abigail.” Jack said, uneasily. He wore a dark hat and trenchcoat, while Abigail wore a black, high necked lace blouse and black pants.

“How was your trip, Agent Crawford?” Abigail asked, smile inquisitive.

“My trip…” Shaking his head a little, Jack stared. “Was fine. Where are Hannibal and Will?” He asked

“Oh, they’ll be around in a minute.” She said, waving her hand, an ambiguous gesture, and walked away from Jack. “Tea, Agent Crawford?”

“No, thank you.” Jack replied, jaw tightset. “I’m not inclined to follow you Abigail. I want this to be done officially, or as officially as possible.”

Abigail chuckled and turned around in the doorway to the kitchen. “Don’t lie, Agent Crawford, it’s very unbecoming.”

Jack raised his eyebrows patiently at Abigail. “I’m not sure what you mean. I have strict orders to check in with my FBI superior in ten minutes time. I know this is not the most orthodox way to contact you all, but we figured the more low key, the more Hannibal might be willing to be reasonable.”

Abigail nodded her head, her lips pursed in a calculating stare. “Sure. Of course, Agent Crawford. But I am making tea for myself whether you have a cup or not, so why don’t you follow me into the kitchen?” Abigail disappeared through the doorway.

Jack sighed and, with a cursory glance around the rest of the spacious entryway, followed the girl he thought was dead into the kitchen.

Abigail stood at the stove, boiling water in a kettle. As Jack looked around the kitchen, classical music drifted to his ears from another room.

“Hannibal finishing up his arpeggios?” Jack asked, eyebrow raised.

Abigail chuckled. “You know how he delights in his rituals. Interrupting him never ends well,”

Jack shifted on his feet and checked his burner phone. Nothing. Alana was also under instructions to alert Jack if there was any suspicious activity outside suggesting Hannibal or Will trying to make an escape.

The longer Jack stayed in the kitchen the more uneasy he grew. Abigail’s pot of water whistling temporarily made it so that he couldn’t hear the piano music, but his ears perked up when she turned the burner off and the haunting melody rang clear again.

There was something about it that made Jack pause and wonder why Hannibal would be playing piano while Jack was standing in his kitchen. To embarrass him? To infuriate him? Was it another mind game or just a power move? Who could possibly say, with Hannibal?

The music continued, getting more intense, and it gave Jack a secondy moment of peace, realizing that he would be able to get a heads up before Hannibal appeared as the music would first come to an end.. Jack finally broke down and made conversation for a moment. “I’m sure you don’t tire of hearing him play,”

Abigail nodded, looking at Jack, eyes alight with curiosity. “Hannibal plays better than anyone I know. And he teaches better, too,” She said, as if she was sharing some secret joke.

Jack fingered a knife he had his pocket. He had a knife and a gun, tucked into the waist of his pants which now felt heavy and obvious in this humongous, cold mansion.

The kitchen door shuttered behind them and Jack spun around. There stood Hannibal, while the piano music continued on.

“Hannibal?” Jack sputtered for his knife but Hannibal stepped forward with quick, heavy steps.

“You are going to call Alana Bloom and give her your signal that everything is fine, and then I am going to kill you slowly. Do you understand me, Agent Crawford?” Hannibal asked, stopping directly in front of Jack and reaching down to snatch his wrist.

Jack sighed heavily as Hannibal pulled the knife from his pocket.

With his own knife drawn to his throat, Jack dialed Alana’s burner phone’s number. After two rings she picked up.

“Jack?” She breathed

“Yes sir, I'm good.” Jack said slowly. “You have a good night, now.” Jack hung up the phone, and handed it back off to Hannibal, who had his open palm outstretched.

In one motion, Jack whipped the gun out of the back of his waistband, aiming it at Hannibal. The psychiatrist laughed without humour as Jack aimed his gun at him.

“Show’s over, Hannibal,” Jack said slowly.

“For you, maybe,” Hannibal replied, grinning monstrously.

From behind, Chiyoh pressed the barrel of her shotgun into Jack’s shoulder.

.

Outside, Alana pondered the phone call. Jack had seemed a little strained, but nothing out of the ordinary for a plan that involved him in the same room with Hannibal and Will after months of recovery and mourning after Bella’s death.

Alana thought about going in early, seeing what she could do to help, but thought better of it. Best not to expose themselves as working together until absolutely needed.

Her thoughts were spiraling, completely undecided about what decision to make, whether rushing in early would be saving Jack or betraying him, when a loud gunshot, clear as day, rang out through the field, birds flying away after the startling noise.

Signal or no signal, a gunshot was definitely a call for help. Alana broke into a run towards the castle.

When she reached the front door, it was open.

Alana tread through the castle entryway carefully, abandoning her shoes at the front door and heading into the castle. She followed the eery notes of The Rite of Spring. Up the stairs, through the hallway, into the last room, following the dissonant notes, Alana could feel her heart ready to beat out of her chest. She tried to calm herself but she was unable to get the thought from her mind that she could be coming face to face with Hannibal once again.

As she stepped into the room, gun raised at the ready, she faltered.

“Good evening, Dr. Bloom.”

Will Graham sat at the piano, executing the complicated melodies flawlessly. His tone was measured, controlled and Alana had never seen him so resemble Hannibal.

“Where’s Hannibal?” She asked instantly.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” Will asked, teasingly.

“And Jack? And Abigail?” Alana asked of Will, the gun beginning to shake.

“Oh, they’re somewhere closeby I’m sure. But you and I have to have a chat first, Alana. Because time and time again, you don’t learn.” Will stood, the music finally coming to an end. Silence enveloped the room and Alana was suddenly aware of quite how alone she was in the house with Will. There was no sensation of motion, no sounds detectable from their position within the expansive mansion.

“There’s nothing you can say to me that would change my mind about you and Hannibal, Will.” Alana said, feigning confidence and stepping closer to Will, his arms outstretched, gun pointed at her dear old friend.

“I just don’t think you’re quite grasping things, darling,” Will said, prompting Alana to scrunch up her eyebrows at the pet name. “There’s no situation where Hannibal, Abigail and I don’t walk out of here alive and free.” The arrogance dripped from Will’s words like melting snow.

“We’ll see about that,”

Will chuckled petulantly. “What you can control is whether you and Jack walk out of here alive,”

“How am I supposed to believe he’s still alive?” Alana asked easily.

“You’re just going to have to trust me for the time being on that one, Alana.” Will smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked curiously. He had no qualms making eye contact with her this time, challenging her like he had been doing it all his life. “But you and Jack are going to be done following us, done searching for us. Do you understand me, Alana? Or you two will never make it out of here alive.”

Alana nodded slowly. “And I know you two will keep your word, how?”

Will gestured to the castle. “We had been doing a pretty good job of not bothering you before. We were keeping our heads down, living peaceful normal lives in Paris when you found us, and again here when you found us.” Will turned to look at the piano again. “I’ve been taking up music, even, we’ve had so much free time.”

Alana chuckled a little. “Yeah, well, you two never stay under the radar for long,”

Will laughed. “That may be so, but we have Abigail now, we can’t quite keep up our former lifestyle with a child to look after.” He crossed his arms, standing tall, shoulders broad.

“That’s not entirely true and you know it,” Alana challenged, the gun no longer shaking, still pointed at Will, the conversation with him feeling more natural than Alana had thought it would.

Will tilted his head in assessment. “Even still, you can’t keep up this charade either. You two have been chasing us around, scrambling for a chance to fight. You’ve lost so many along the way already. Are you quite ready to lose more? Are you going to drag another class of FBI agents and profilers down, trying and failing to capture _Hannibal the Canniba_ l?” Will taunted

“If it stops you two from murdering anymore innocent people, then I think I very well might be.” Alana said stubbornly.

Will shook his head. “You always were too stubborn for your own good Alana, but as I said, and Hannibal told you back in Baltimore… you could have avoided this many times over.”

Alana closed her eyes, readying herself to fire the gun when Abigail hit her over the head from behind with Chiyoh’s shotgun.

“Good work, Abigail,” Will said, with a small smile.

.

When Alana and Jack awoke, they took a moment to gather their surroundings. Alana scrambled to her feet, coughing through the smoke.

Jack was injured, having been shot in the shoulder, but Hannibal had patched him up so he would hopefully regain consciousness around the time Alana did.

“Jack, Jack, come on, lean on me, let’s get out of here.”

With Jack leaning heavily on Alana, the pair barely made it from the burning mansion. They collapsed, a little ways outside Lecter castle as the flames licked at the facade, and burst through the windows.

“No sign of Hannibal and Will,” Alana said, breathing heavy and still coughing intermittently.

Jack laid on his back staring up at the stars. “I didn’t expect any other ending to this scenario. They have disappeared into the wind once more. Hannibal, Will, Abigail and Chiyoh, four fugitives, on the run from the law.”

“You sound defeated.”

“That’s ‘cause we were defeated,” Jack retorted, coughing into his elbow.

“What’s that in your pocket, Jack?” Alana asked.

Sticking out of Jack’s right pant pocket was a white envelope, in Hannibal’s scrawling cursive handwriting.

Jack sighed. “Read it to me, I don’t have the energy,”

As Alana and Jack sat on the grass outside Lecter Castle, watching the flames light up the night sky, the read their final correspondence from Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

_My Dearest Alana and Jack,_

_How good it was to see you two. Lovely to know that the ever-expanding Lecter family is still on the hearts and minds of the people we left behind in Baltimore. Will and I continue to think of you fondly as well, or at least we had been until your most recent visit. We hope you take our advice this time and stay away. We do not wish for you to be hurt anymore than you already have been. Take a lesson from Bedelia and please do not come looking for us again._

_The Lecter Family extends its condolences if you choose not to follow our suggestions. Should you come looking for us again, we were thinking Freddie Lounds might be a beautiful Venus de Milo and Frederick Chilton might make a great bust. Two more deaths on your head that would be avoidable should you forget the Lecter Family even exists. It’s truly up to you._

_Yours,_

_Hannibal, Will, Abigail and Chiyoh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end with this story. I love and appreciate every comment and every kudos!!


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